:'; 






Wmi 



m 



\rai jjBl^p^ J^i 



^M/S^^ 



**& 



ii&m9W> 



«A A^/^'^A 






LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, 



@|* . ]l \... ,.— ©apgrig|! Iftu 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



fiwfeftft,' 



: fl*M* 






2(£\ ,*v 


i* A. ^' * ~ ^ ^ * "* 


AM 








^ ; #^AAA 



ftSftsSs 






tMfi^MmM^M^^M 









'.-■*■■ » 









^ A A! ; A A A Ap *J 



^^^ -T^ ?'■-* x '• 



^g^Wfe 



^^^ ( ArV|i 



T-.a-w ^f-rr*- 



AAM 






W#w&£3team&^FG^^MmNmWit 






■ A A AAA ' 



PREFACE. 



In offering this collection of Dialogues to the public, 
the author aims at giving to advanced scholars an oppor- 
tunity for the display of some dramatic power and inge- 
nuity. They are not intended to be instructive, as he 
believes there are ample facilities for conveying informa- 
tion in all well regulated schools, and that serious and 
instructive dialogues are a sort of sugar-coated pill to most 
young folks. Hoping, therefore, that amusement, merri- 
ment and fun will not be considered objectionable by the 
professors, and certain of the full sympathy of the boys 
and girls, the author has written this little volume for the 
hours of relaxation from graver and more important studies. 

The majority of the dialogues are humorous, but an 
opportunity has also been afforded for the introduction of 
some good recitations, and ample scope for the display of 
dramatic talent. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE. 

The Empty House For 5 Males and 1 Female 7 

Turning the Tables For 4 Males 17 

A Doctoe by Proxy For 6 Males and 1 Female 24 

Strategy. For 4 Females 34 

The Picnic Party For 3 Males and 3 Females. . . . 42 

An Aspirant for Fame For 3 Males, 49 

The New Boy For 4 Males 56 

"Which was the Hero ? For 3 Males 62 

Astonishing the Natives For 3 Females 68 

The Critics For 6 Males - 76 

The Expected Visitors For 6 Females 82 

A Nightmare of India For 7 Males 89 

An Indian Raid For 3 Males and 2 Females 96 

Going ! Going ! Gone ! For 6 Males and 2 Females. . . .104 

The Book-Peddler For 3 Males and 2 Females 112 

The Burglar- Alarm For 2 Males and 3 Females. . . .119 

Missed His Chance For 5Males and 1 Female 126 

The Girl of the Period For 2 Males and 3 Females. . . 132 

The Photograph Gallery For 4 Males and 3 Fern ales .... 140 

The Elocution Class For 6 Males 150 

Love and Stratagem For 1 Male and 2 Females 1 64 

Extremes Meet For 3 Males and 3 Females — 173 



GRAHAM'S 

SCHOOL DIALOGUES 

FOE YOUNG PEOPLE. 



THE EMPTY HOUSE. 



(J5 h a t[ a c t e n\ s . 

Mr, Lettum — Owner of the empty house: 
Mr. Takum — Tenant of the empty house. 
Mrs. Takum— A very timid lady, afraid of burglars. 

Pat > 

' > Two ragged, barefooted Irish Newsboys. 

J ERRY, j 

Policeman-. 

SCENE. — A Boom, with a large open closet, and a window in back- 
ground. No furniture excepting one very shabby chair and an 
empty packing-box. 

Enter Mr. Letttjm and Mr. Takum, conversing. Mr. Lettum 
carries a large bunch of keys. 

Mr. Lettum. Yes, sir, I can truly say the house is in perfect order 
throughout, papered and painted since the last tenants left. 
Mr. Takum. Modern improvements ? 
Mr. Lettum. Everything, sir. Stationary washstands, mirrors 



8 THE EMPTY HOUSE. 

in each front room, stationary wash-tubs in laundry, wardrobes in 
sleeping rooms, and every convenience. 

Mr. Takttm. Any protection against burglary ? 

Mr. Lettum. I'm glad you spoke of that, for there is every pro- 
tection — chains on every outside door, double back-action catches 
on every window, electric bells on each floor, and two very loud 
burglar alarms, one front and one back, steel traps on the cellar 
windows, and a patent alarm mat at the gate. 

Mr. Takum. Tou really rejoice me ! Mrs. Takum is so exces- 
sively timid ! 

Mr. Lettum. H'm, yes! ladies are, as a rule. 

Mr. Takum. My wife is afraid of her own shadow if she sees it 
unexpectedly, faints at the sight of a cockroach, and has hysterics 
if a board creaks in the night. I am sure the sight of a burglar 
would kill her outright. 

Mr. Lettum. Wife of my last tenant was just so ! Dear me ! 
her husband was always running to me for some addition to the 
protection of the property ; so that I think I may safely assert that 
there is not a house in town that is so perfectly burglar-proof as 
this one. It is barricaded — positively barricaded— with bolts, spring 
locks, and contrivances to prevent felonious entrance. 

Mr. Takum. {Aside.) What a paradise for my dear Maria ! I 
really must take the house. {Aloud. ) Can I have immediate pos- 
session, Mr. Lettum ? I believe we agreed upon the rent up-stairs ? 

Mr. Lettum. Tes, sir. I cau leave the keys with you to-night, 
if you wish. The house has been cleaned within a week, so you 
can move in at once, if you wish. 

Mr. Takum. I will take it, then, for one year. 

Mr. Lettum. I am sure you will continue a tenant much longer. 
Tou cannot desire a better property. 

Mr. Takum. I will be a better judge of that at the end of the 
year. 

Mr. Lettum. Just so ! Tou will take the keys ? 

Mr. Takum. Tes. HI call at your office in the morning and 
sign the lease. {Takes keys from Mr. Lettum.) 

Mr. Lettum. Quite satisfactory, sir. Good afternoon ! 

Mr. Takum. Good afternoon! {Exit Mr. Lettum.) 

Mr. Takum. {Looking at Ms watch.) low I'll just step round 
and get Maria ! Five o'clock ! Plenty of time to cook a chop, 



THE EMPTY HOUSE. 9 

and put up the furniture of one room. I'll go at once ! It is 
scarcely worth while to lock up for a few minutes, particularly as 
there is nothing in the house to tempt a burglar. (Exit Mr. Takum. ) 
After a moment, enter Jerry and Pat. During the conversation 

between the boys the light must be gradually lowered, as if day- 
light was fading, till the stage is in the dimmest light ; and this 

light must not be raised again, the candle giving light after it is 

introduced. 

Jerry. "Was there iver sich iligant luck, Pat ? 

Pat. (Laughing.) Mver, me boy. (Both stamp their feet and 
blow on their fingers, as if cold.) 

Jerry. Jist as I see the snow a-comm' down, an' was a-thmkiV 
how cowld the ould barril we've been slaping in would be the 
night, out comes the gint — 

Pat. (Laughing, and slapping his "knees.) An' clane forgot to 
lock the door! And, see the lovely closet, Jerry! "We'll be 
warmer'n toost in there, sure ! 

Jerry. And the beautiful box ! (Peeping in.) And by all good 
luck, Pat, there's an iligant layer of straw in the bottom. 

Pat. A regular rlther bed, be jabers ! 

Jerry. It's nearly dark, Pat. (Yawns.) 

Pat. An' we've sold the last paper. 

Jerry. Suppose we have a bit tf supper? (Takes paper out of 
Ms hat.) Here's an iligant bit of chase. ( Unfolds paper.) 

Pat. (Takes paper out of his hat.) And didn't I git two 
doughnuts for a cint because they was baked yisterday ? ( Un- 
folds his paper.) 

Jerry. (Taking paper from pocket.) An' I found this bit o' 
cowld mate. 

Pat. (Taking paper from his pocket.) Didn't an ould gint ating 
his luncheon chuck this out the windy? An iligant chicken 
bone, Jerry, me boy, with lashin's o' mate on it. 

Jerry. Och, ain't it foine? (Sits on end of 5(W.)-Draw up the 
chair, Pat. (They begin to eat.) 

Pat. Where's your tin cup, Jerry ? 

Jerry. (Taking a small cup out of his pocket.) Here. 

Pat. I'll behuntin' some warther. (Exit Pat, with cup.) 

Jerry. An' I'll put a taste more of the chase on his doughnut, 
and a thrifle more o' the mate over his way. Pat's bigger'n me, 



10 THE EMPTY HOUSE. 

and it stands to rayson he'll ate more. Be jabers ! whativer is 
that ? {Bells ring, burglar alarms go off — in fact, all the noise 
that can be made back of stage.) Powers alive! the b'y '11 be 
Mlt. 

Pat. (Bushing in, his hair sticking up in terror.) Arrah, Jerry, 
did iver ye hear the loikes o' that? (Noise gradually dies away.) 

Jerry. Are ye hurted, Pat ? 

Pat. Mver a bit. Bnt iverything I touched wint off, like fire- 
works on the Foorth o' July. There's bells on all the doors, an' 
rattles on the windys. 

Jerry. Them's burglar things. I wonder if the police '11 come in ? 

Pat. It's too early. We can slape in security, me boy. If 
thaves come into this house we'll hear thim sure. (Both eat re- 
mainder of food.) 

Jerry. (Anxiously.) Are you sure the newspaper money's all 
right for the mornin', Pat ? 

Pat. (Striking his breast.) Mver you frit about that, Jerry, me 
boy. I've got it sewed up in me coat. An* who iver gits that's 
got to foight Pat Malone. 

Jerry. An' can't he foight like a hyena, jist ! Can we go to 
bed, Pat? 

Pat. Whiniver ye like. 

Jerry. I'll slape in the closet. 

Pat. Sure the box is aisier, with the beautiful straw in it. 

Jerry. (Aside.) So it is, and he'll slape like an angel in it. 
(Aloud.) But I'll fale safer in the closet, Pat, if you're outside here 
in the box. (Creeps into closet, and lies down.) It's just beauti- 
ful here. (Sleepily.) 

Pat. (Sighing. ) I could ate another supper if I had it, Jerry. 

Jerry. Don't ye be a nepicure at your time of loife, Patrick 
Malone. It's ashamed of yes I am. 

Pat. Small chance of it, Jerry. Are yes comfortable in there ? 

Jerry. Is it comfortable ? Sure the President himself won't 
slape better than I will the night. ( Yawns.) It's daikintirely, Pat. 
"We won't touch nothink in the house, Pat. 

Pat. (Scornfully.) What is there to touch, barrin' the thraps 
for thaves ? 

Jerry. But we wouldn't touch nothink, Pat, if there was piles 
o' goold. 



THE EMPTY HOUSE. 11 

. Pat. Niver, Jerry. It's notthaves we are, only two poor Irish 
boys that's like to fraze an's cript in out of the snow. Good 
night, Jerry. 

Jerry. (Droivsily.) Good night. (Jerry sleeps. Stage almost 
dark.) 

Pat. (.Closing the closet door, till nearly shut.) It'll be warmer 
for him with the door shut. Poor boy, he's clane tired ont. An' 
Til crape around the house a little to be sure there's no burglars. 
"VThativer would we do if we lost the newspaper money again, as 
we did when a thafe of the world stole Jerry's hat with forty-siven 
chits in it l ? "We failed intireiy and had to buy on cridit, and we'll 
niver git that chance again. (Exit Pat.) 

After a moment's pause, enter Mr. and Mrs. Takum, with baskets 
and bundles, and a tin candlestick with a candle in it, lighted. 

Mr. Takum. There, my dear, there is a chair, you see, so you 
can be quite comfortable while I go out to get something for sup- 
per, and hurry up one van of furniture. (Puts candlestick on box.) 

Mrs. Takum. Comfortable! Do light the gas, John, all orer 
the house, before you go. 

Mr. Takum. Gas is turned off, my dear. I'll see to it the first 
thing in the morning. 

Mrs. Takum. Oh, I shall die of fright in a strange house with 
no gas! 

Mr. Takum. Pooh, pooh ! I shan't be gone five minutes, and 
I'll bring a whole box of candles, if you wish. (Exit Mr. Takum.) 

Mrs. Takum. I shall die of terror, I know I shall ! (Jerry 
moves in closet.) Oh, what was that? (Sinks into chair.) It 
must have been a rat. (Looks timidly around.) Dear me ! I 
thought the landlord said the house had been cleaned, (looking at 
papers left by Jerry and Pat) and here is a perfectly disgusting 
mess of cheese. TJgh! how it smells ! and bones ! (Pushes aside 
the papers, and upsets candlestick, putting out the candle— this 
can easily be blown out first.) Oh, oh ! what shall I do? John 
has all the matches in his pocket. I wonder if I can find one in 
some of the baskets! (Gropes about for the basket.) 

Jerry. ( Very sleepily.) "What are you making such a hullaba- 
loo about, Pat ? 

Mrs. Takum. Oh, somebody spoke ! Oh, there's somebody in 



12 THE EMPTY HOUSE. 

the room ! He'll murder me ! {Leans against the box, as if faint 
with fright) 

Jerry. (Pushing open the closet door.) Whativer are you doing? 

Mrs. Takum. (Creeping away from door toivards chair.) Oh, 
where is the door ? I'd rather wait for John on the pavement, 
than stay in this room another minute. 

Enter Pat, stepping softly. 

Pat. Whist, Jerry ! 

Mrs. Takum. (Sinking into chair.) There is another! Oh, 
John, John ! (sobbing softly) how could you leave me here alone 
to be murdered ! (The chair must be pushed by the boys to the 
foreground, facing audience, when they have done eating, so that 
they will be behind it in this scene.) 

Jerry. ( WJiispering. ) Oh, Pat, what are you doing ? 

Pat. "Whist, Jerry, there's people come in ! (Jerry creeps out 
of closet.) 

Mrs. Takum. Oh, they are whispering together. I'll be mur- 
dered. I feel a knife at my throat already, and I dare not scream I 
Oh, John, John, where are you ? 

Pat. Can't you creep over to me, Jerry ? 

Jerry. It's thrying to foind yes I am. 

Pat. Aisy ! Don't be spaking so loud. 

Jerry. We'll have to get out o' this. Bad luck to thim ! "Why 
couldn't they lave us in pace till morning % 

Mrs. Takum. (Standing up. ) I can't sit here and be murdered 
in cold blood ! 

Pat. (Groping about and moving gradually towards Mrs. 
Takum.) If yes '11 take hoold o' me hand, I'll take you out, Jerry ! 

Jerry. (Groping away from Pat, towards window.) I'm thry- 
ing to find yes. 

Mrs. Takum. Oh, what shall I do ! I must get out ! I wonder 
if I can find one of the alarms John says are all over the house ! 
(Mrs. Takum and Pat grope towards each other, with their arms 
extended, until they run into each other's arms, Mrs. Takum 
screaming.) Oh! oh! 

Pat. "Whist ! Whatever are yes screaming that way for ! 

Mrs. Takum. (Grasping Pat.) I've got you! Thieves! mur- 
der! 



THE EMPTY HOUSE. 13 

Pat. {Struggling,) Oh, bejabers, it's not Jerry at all, at all! 

Mrs. Takum. Police ! police ! ! 

Jerry. Oh, Pat ! Pat ! is it murthered ye are ? 

Mrs. Takum. {Dropping Pat.) There's another of them ! {Stag- 
gers back to chair, as if fainting. ) 

Pat. {Staggering lack from the sudden release.) Oh, Jerry, 
where are yes, me boy ? 

Jerry. {At window.) Come this way, Pat. (Pat, groping to- 
wards Jerry, knocks over the baskets and bundles on the floor; 
Jerry opens window and starts an alarm; Pat falls over packing 
box; Mrs. Takum sits upright and screams.) 

Jerry. Hurry np, Pat ! We can get out of the windy ! 

Mrs. Takum. John ! John ! Help ! murder ! police ! ! 

Pat. Oh, I'm kilt entirely ! {Gets up limping.) 

Mrs. Takum. John ! John ! Oh, there must be an army of men, 
to dare make so much noise. {Gets up and runs about as if fran- 
tic with terror.) John! murder! murder! 

Enter Policeman. 

Policeman. "What is all this noise about ? 

Pat. Oh, we're kilt now. (Jerry and Pat crouch' under the 
window. When they speak it must be in a low tone, as if afraid,) 

Jerry. Are you here, Pat ? 

Pat. Whist, Jerry ! We'll be craping out. It's the perlice. 

Jerry. Oh, Pat ! Have you the newspaper money safe ? 

Pat. Tis. "Watch a chance to bolt out o' the windy. (Police- 
man and Mrs. Takum, during this conversation, grope about in 
foreground until they meet.) 

Policeman. {Seizing Mrs. Takum.) Ah ! I've got you, have I? 

Mrs. Takum. Oh, let me go ! I'll give you my watch and all 
my money. 

Policeman. {Shaking her.) Want to bribe an officer in discharge 
of his duty, do you? 

Mrs. Takum. {Trembling violently and sobbing.) Oh, let me 
go ! Let me go ! 

Policeman. {Sarcastically.) Oh, I'll let you go ! You're a nice 
one, ain't you, coming into vacant houses at this time o' night to 
steal the lead pipes. I've caught you at it before. 

Mrs. Takum. Oh, if you'll only not murder me ! 



14 THE EMPTY HOUSE. 

Pat. {Softly.) Can't yon try the windy now, Jerry ? 

Jerry. {Climbing up.) Will you come too? 

Pat. Av coorse I will. 

Policeman. {Listening.) So there's more of them. {Takes hold 
©/Mrs. Takum with left hand, and gets a rattle out of his pocket.) 

Mrs. Takum. {As if fainting.) Oh, John! John! 

Policeman. Here, stand up. None of that. I believe there's 
a whole nest of them. {Springs his rattle.) 

Pat. Quick, Jerry. (Jerry gets on window seat, and starts a 
bell ringing.) 

Policeman. Stop, or I'll fire ! 

Jerry. Will ye ? {Drops out of window.) 

Mrs. Takum. Oh, if he fires, there's no knowing who will be 
hit. Where can John be ? {Struggles.) 

Policeman. Bother the woman ! they'll all get away while Fm 
holding her. Be quiet, will you, or I'll knock you over the head 
with a club. (Pat stands up before window, as if to climb out.) 
Shut that window, or I'll fire. (Pat creeps on hands and knees 
towards door. All this time Mrs. Takum must scream and 
struggle.) 

Mrs. Takum. Oh, let me go ! Oh, good burglar, let me go ! 

Policeman. How many of you are there ? (Pat reaches door 
and tries to crawl out. Just at the doorway Mr. Takum rushes 
in, slams the door, and falls over Pat, who lies motionless, as if 
stunned.) 

Mr. Takum. "What is the matter, Maria ? 

Mrs. Takum. Oh, John ! John ! the house is full of burglars. 

Policeman. Another one. 

Mr. Takum. I'll start the alarms. (Policeman springs rattle, 
Mrs. Takum screams violently, Mr. Takum rushes about the 
room, opens and shuts the window, slams the door. Behind the 
scenes have all the noise possible — bells ringing, burglar alarms 
going off, rattles, gongs, and, if practicable, a dog or two yelping.) 

Mr. Takum. Great heavens ! What can this all be ? Where 
is the light gone to ? Stop ! I've got some matches, and I'll strike 
one. {Strikes a match, and finds the candle, which he lights. Stage 
lights must be raised a little, and noises cease.) What! Maria 
struggling with a policeman! {To Policeman.) What do you 
want in here 1 How dare you assault my wife ? 



THE EMPTY HOUSE. 15 

Policeman. (Advancing toward Mr. Takum.) What do I want, 
hey? Fillet yon know that fast enough. Jnst yon two pack 
along with me, and you'll have an opportunity to-morrow morn- 
ing to explain in court what yon are doing here after dark in an 
empty house. (Pat rouses himself, looks around beiuildered, and 
listens.) 

Mrs. Takum. Oh, John ! what does the man mean ? I shall 
die if I am locked up in a cell — I know I shall. 

Policeman. Die ? I guess you'll survive it. Come along, come. 
Do you suppose I'm going to wait all night for you ? (Takes out 
a pair of hand-cuffs. ) 

Mrs. Takum. (Screams and runs behind Mr. Takum.) John, 
you can't allow this ! Can't you — 

Mr. Takum. (Getting composed.) Calm yourself, Maria; I be- 
gin to see it all now. (To Policeman.) Have the kindness to 
clear out instantly ; this is my house, and I have the right to oc- 
cupy it without your interference. 

Policeman. (Sarcastically.) That's very neat, indeed. Tery 
cool. This house has been long empty, and I shall need more 
than your word to convince me that you have any right here at all. 

Mrs. Takum. (Trembling, but calmer. To Mr. Takum.) Can't 
you satisfy this terrible man that we have taken this house ? Oh ! 
if Mr. Lettum were only here. 

Policeman. Mr. Lettum ! why, that's the owner. 

Mr. Takum. Ah, you know him, then ? Well, just go to him 
and fetch him here, and we will soon end all this nonsense. 

Policeman. Tery neat indeed. Why, where would you be 
when I got back ? Too thin ! Come, you had better come along — 
willingly if you please, forcibly if you won't. Hullo ! What boy 
is that ? Come here, you young rascal. There were two of you ; 
where's the other ¥ 

Mr. Takum. Here, boy. (Aside.) How fortunate he's here. (To 
Pat.) Here, take this card (writes on a card) to Mr. Lettum, 
and wait for an answer. (To Policeman.) [Now just wait a min- 
ute until he gets back, and see what Mr. Lettum says about it. 
(To Pat.) Eun, boy, and HI give you a quarter when you get 
beck. (Exit Pat. To Policeman.) IsTow, if you please, I wish 
to repeat to you that we have taken this house, and Mr. Lettum 
will be here in a few moments to confirm what I say. 



16 THE EMPTY HOUSE. 

Policeman. Well, Til give you five minutes, and then you 
march with me. (Looks at his watch. Mr. Taktjm soothes Mrs. 
Takum, and appears to talk to her, and she to him, for a few 
moments. Policeman again looks at his watch.) Only one min- 
ute more. You'd better be getting these bracelets on. (Holds out 
hand-cuffs. ) 

Enter Mr. Lettum, hurriedly. 

Mr. Letttjm. Bless my soul ! what's the matter, Mr. Takum ? 

Mr. Taktjm. "Why, we had just got in here, in advance of our 
first load of furniture, and I had stepped out to get some provi- 
sions, leaving Mrs. Takum here alone for a few minutes. "When 
I returned, I found my wife struggling to free herself from the 
grasp of that officious policeman. He ridiculed the idea of our be- 
ing the rightful tenants, and would have locked us up as burglars 
if you had not arrived so quickly. (To Policeman.) Now, are 
you satisfied ? 

Policeman. (To Mr. Lettum.) Is this all right? 

Mr. Lettum. Why, of course. Mr. Takum has rented this 
house of me, and now I think you had better relieve them of 
your presence. 

Policeman. Certainly. I hope, however, you will perceive that 
I did my duty in protecting your property. When people leave the 
front door open, it is my duty to see whether everything is right 
inside. 

Mr. Taktjm. Well, I suppose that's so. It seems to be a mis- 
take all round. I wonder, though, what that boy wanted in here, 
and how he got in. He can't be very bad, or he would have run 
off as soon as he got out, instead of delivering my message. I sup- 
pose he's too scared to claim his quarter. (To Mrs. Takum.) 
Now, my dear, how do you like your first evening in an Empty 
House? 

Curtain. 



A DOCTOR BY PROXY. 31 

Billy. Elegant order, sir. Ground this morning, an' I only 
sawed a little wood with it since. 

John. Knife sharp ? 

Billy. Sharp as a razor. Tried it on the corks yesterday. 

Pat. Oh, the mnrthering pair of thim ! 

Teddy. Aisy now, Pat. Ye'll not be wanting a dull knife, sure ! 

John. ISTow, my good fellow, {fusses over table with instru- 
ments) we'll have you all right inside of ten minutes. Billy ! 

Billy. Yessir. 

John. Help him on the table. 

Billy. Yessir. (Billy and Teddy stretch Pat on table. Pat 
groans and hotels all the time.) 

John. {To Teddy.) You hold his arms. 

Teddy. I'll do that same, sir! {Holds Pat's arms.) 

John. Billy! 

Billy. Yessir. 

John. Hold the other leg. 

Billy. Yessir. 

John. {Taking up a long knife.) Kow then. {Motions as if 
cutting.) 

Pat. Oh, it's killing me entirely ye are this toime. Oh, mur- 
ther! {Groans.) 

Teddy. Aisy now, Pat. It'll soon be over ! 

John. Billy! 

Billy. Yessir. 

John. Pass me the saw. (Billy takes knife and passes saw. 
John saws like a carpenter.) So. It is almost off. 

Pat. I'm a dead man ! Oh, murther an' Irish, that iver I come 
to this. {Howls and groans.) 

Teddy. Och, it's faling sick I am mesilf. 

John. {Holding up a leg, hidden on table.) A beautiful opera- 
tion! 

Pat. Is it beautiful ? Be jabers, I wish it was both your own 
legs ! 
John. Billy! 
Billy. Yessir. 
John. Bandages ! 

Billy. Here, sir. {Passes bandages.) 
John. {Bandaging Pat's legs together with great show and 



32 A DOCTOR BY PROXY. 

flourish. ) You see, my good fellow, there is nothing like tending 
to these little matters in good time. 

Pat. {Groaning.) Little matters, indade ! There's impudince 
for you. 

Teddy. Sure, Pat, you'll not be blackguarding the docther whin 
he's savin' yer life. 

John. Just so, my good fellow. And I'm going to do this very 
cheap, very. {Bandages Pat's legs still.) Billy! 

Billy, Yessir! 

John. Help to put the patient in the chair. (Billy, Teddy 
and John place Pat in a chair.) More bandages. 

Billy. Yessir. 

John. It is very important to bandage well, to prevent hemor- 
rhage. 

Teddy. Indade it is, sur. (John bandages Pat's body, holding 
his arms down.) 

John. Billy ! 

Billy. Yessir. 

John. Mix a dose of the Universal Cure. 

Billy. Yessir. (Pours out of bottle into tumbler.) 

John. There, my good man, drink that ! (Pat swallows one 
mouthful, and begins to spit and make faces.) 

Teddy. Oh, ye babby, drink the medicine ! 

Pat. (Choking.) Oh, it's poison ! It's fire and murther mixed! 
(Struggles.) Oh, I'm being kilt amongst yes! Untie me hands, 
an' I'll fight the three of yes with one leg ! 

Teddy. Aisy now, Pat, or you'll bust the bandages. 

Pat. I'll bust everything in the place. (Struggling.) Give me 
my leg, ye thafe o' the world ! 

John. (Coolly.) He is a little feverish and fight-headed. Don't 
mind him. 

Pat. Ye'd better moind me, thin, if ye know what's good for you ! 

John. Billy! 

Billy. Yessir. 

John. Go hire a cart, and have this man carried home at once. 

Billy. Yessir. (Exit Billy.) 

John. Now, my good fellow, I'll take my fee. 

Pat. Fee, is it f Jist untie my hands, an' I'll give it to you 
right between the eyes. 



A DOCTOR BY PROXY. 33 

Teddy. Oh, docther, now, he's not marring any harrum, poor 
fellow ! 

John. {Very coolly.) Certainly not. He is a little delirions. 

Teddy. And he's a poor man, docther; so you will not be hard 
on him about the fee. 

John. Oh, no. I'll only charge him fifty dollars. 

Pat. Fifty dollars ! Tare an' ages ! wheriver do you suppose 
Fm going to get fifty dollars ? 

Teddy. {Feeling in his pockets.) I'm thinking, docther, fifty 
cints will be nearer. 

John. {Grandly.) Fifty dollars is only half my usual fee. 

Pat. Hear that, now ! I'd do it mesilf for a quarther. 

Billy. {Bushing in.) Cart's here, and about fifty men to help 
Pat! 

Pat. Bring 'em all in ! I'll see if I can't be avin wid ye, if I 
am tied up. 

John. ISTo, no ! Keep them out, Billy ! 

Teddy. "We'll stand by ye, Pat ! Hey ! Is it fifty dollars for 
killing a dacint man ? 

Pat. {Calling.) Come in, the whole of yes! Here, Murphy ! 
Flaherty ! O'Sullivan ! Come in ! 

John. {Going to back of stage.) Only one door. They'll mur- 
der me for certain ! 

Pat. Come in ! Hey ! I've got fifty pairs of arms and legs, if 
I am tied up ! Come in, all of yes ! 

Curtain. 



34 STRATEGY. 

STEATEGT. 

<5ha*tactett$. 



!NKIE ' I Two School-girls. 

0LLIE, % 



Jennie, 

Mollie, 

Miss Amanda Fidget — Tlieir Aunt. 

Lizzie— The Servant Girl. 



SCENE. — A handsome Parlor. Open piano, centre of "background. 
Lizzie dusting; Jennie sewing ; Mollie walking up and 
down. 

Mollie. It is downright tyranny, and I will not submit to it ! 

Lizzie. (Aside.) She's said that fifty times in as many minntes. 

Jennie. WTtat's the use of making a fuss, Mollie ? Ton know 
if Aunt Amanda says you can't go, you will have to stay here. 

Mollie. I won't, then ! I would run away, only I can't take 
my trunk if I do that, and I don't want to go to Mulberry Hall 
without every one of my new dresses. 

Lizzie. There, this room is dusted; I'll go and get dinner. 
(Exit Lizzie.) 

Jennie, Do sit down, Mollie. I don't wonder Aunt Amanda 
says your restless ways nearly tire her to death. 

Mollie. Lid she say that ? 

Jennie. Yes. Hasn't she said so to you ? 

Mollie. No, but she will ! She's dreadfully particular— isn't 
she, Jennie? 

Jennie. Dreadfully ! "When I first came here I was all the 
time in trouble. But I learned to keep quiet, to let all her pet 
things alone — 

Mollie. (Impatiently.) I know. You are no more like the 
bright, gay Jennie of two years ago, than I am like Aunt Amanda. 
But you want to stay here ? 

Jennie. I have no other home. Common gratitude would make 
me careful to respect all Aunt Amanda's wishes. 

Mollie. But I don't want to stay. You have no idea what a 



STKATEGY. 35 

glorious time we have at Mulberry Hall. All the girls expect me 
to spend a month at least in vacation. 

Jennie. And Aunt Amanda objects to your going? It does 
seem too bad ! 
Mollie. Too bad ! It is outrageous. But I am going. 
Jennie. Tou won't run away ? 

Mollie. No, but I will be sent away ! Let me see, where 
shall I begin? Oh, I know ! (Sits down at piano and 'plays a very 
loud accompaniment to "Bory O'More." 

Jennie. (Smiling.) I really believe she will be sent away if 
she makes as much noise as that often. 
Mollie. (Singing loudly.) 

Oh, Eory O'More courted Kathleen Bawn; 
He was bold as— as — 
(Speaking.) Bless me, Jennie, I've forgotten the words ! My brain 
must be softening. (Bangs another loud accompaniment to u A 
Life on the Ocean Wave." Sings very loudly.) 
11 A life on the ocean wave, 
A home on the rolling deep, 
Where the scattered waters rave, 
And the winds their revel keep. 
(Speaking.) Aunt Amanda must be dead if this don't bring her 
down-stairs. 

Jennie. You'll break a blood-vessel, Mollie, if you scream in 
that way. 
Mollie. I hear a footstep. (Sings.) 

" Like an eagle caged I pine, 

On this dull, unchanging shore ; 
Oh, give me the flashing brine, 

Enter Miss Amanda. 
Mollie. (Singing.) 

The spray and the tempest's roar. 
Miss Amanda. Mary! Mary! 
Mollie. (Not heeding.) 

" Once more on the deck I stand 
Miss Amanda. Mary ! 

Mollie. Of my own swift gliding craft ; 

Set sail ; farewell to the land, 
- The gale follows far abaft." 



36 ^ STRATEGY. 

Jennie. (Aside.) She will split her throat. 

Miss Amanda. (Shaking Mollie.) Stop that noise. 

Mollie. (Dropping both hands on piano with a crash.) Oh, how 
you startled me ! 

Miss Amanda. Startled you ! What do you mean by making 
such a din? 

Molly. (Innocently.) Din ! 'Why, Auntie, I heard you telling 
Mr. Softum you adored music. 

Miss Amanda. Music ! I abominate noise. 

Mollie. But everybody says I sing splendidly. I will sing 
"Wait for the "Wagon!" 

Miss Amanda. I forbid you to shriek another word. Mercy on 
me ! My nerves won't recover their tranquillity for a week. 

Mollie. They won't if I can prevent it. (Leaves the piano and 
goes to window.) 

Jennie. (Holding tip sewing.) Does this embroidery suit you, 
Auntie ? 

Miss Amanda. Perfectly, my dear. 

Molly. Oh, come here! come here! both of you. (Putts Jennie 
toward window.) Oh, see the dog chasing a cat up the tree ! (Shout- 
ing.) Hi, hi ! At her ! (Claps her hands.) Sh, hi ! Oh, what fun ! 

Miss Amanda. Mary, are you not ashamed ! 

Mollie. (Innocently.) Ashamed! of what? 

Miss Amanda. (Severely.) Of behaving like a boy, and an ex- 
ceedingly ill-bred boy, too. (Aside.) She was quiet enough 
yesterday. 

Mollie. I can't help it. When I feel happy and at home I'm 
always lively. Oh, what a pretty rose ! (Smells flower in vase.) I 
do love roses. I'm going to put this in my hair. (Jerks flower and 
upsets vase.) Oh, dear ! there goes all the water on the table-cloth. 

Miss Amanda. My embroidered stand-cover. (Hastens to tails.) 
Eing the bell for Lizzie. 

Mollie. Oh, I'm awfully sorry! (Bings a hand-oell very 
violently.) 
Miss Amanda. Stop ! stop ! 

Enter Lizzie. 
Lizzie. (Panting.) Oh, my ! I thought the house was on fire. 
Miss Amanda. Take that table-cloth to the fire to dry, and 
clear up that mess on the table. 



STRATEGY. 37 

Lizzie. {Clearing table.) I'm afraid it will stain. "What a pity ! 
{Exit Lizzie, with cloth.) 

Miss Amanda. I wish you would sit down, Mary. You set all 
my nerves in a quiver, {severely) and I think you have done mis- 
chief enough for one day. 

Mollie. {Aside.) I don't. {Aloud.) But, Auntie, it is vacation. 
Nobody can keep still in vacation. At Mulberry Hall we play 
croquet and dance, and we have charades, tableaux, all sorts of 
things. You ought to see me play lawn tennis — this way. {Tak- 
ing a book for a bat to toss a small basket in the air.) 

Miss Amanda. My shell hasket ! It must be ruined. 

Mollie. {Picking up basket.) Oh, no ! it's only bent a little, and 
some of the shells are broken. 

Miss Amanda. Dear, dear ! I value that basket immensely. 
Captain Jenkins brought it from the Bahamas expressly for me. 
Mary, I desire you to sit down ! 

Mollie. {Bouncing into a chair.) Yes, ma'am! {Kicks her 
feet) 

Miss Amanda. And keep still. 

Mollie. {Fidgeting.) Oh, I can't. 

Miss Amanda. Take some sewing, as Jennie does. 

Mollie. Oh, yes ! {Takes a work-basket from table.) I'll em- 
broider. ( Pulls needles out of a piece of knitting. ) 

Miss Amanda. Oh, you've ruined my collar ! 

Mollie. "Why, your collar looks all right. 

Miss Amanda. The one I am knitting. {Takes it up.) I shall 
never get these stitches back. 

Mollie. I wonder if these scissors are sharp? {Cuts a tidy on 
back of chair.) 

Miss Amanda. You'll spoil everything in the room ! Stop 
cutting my tidy ! 

Mollie. Yes, ma'am. 

Jennie. {Aside.) Auntie will have hysterics in five minutes 
more. {Aloud.) Let me teach you this new embroidery stitqh, 
Mollie. 

Mollie. Oh, yes, do ! {Jumps up, letting work-basket fall.) 
Oh, my gracious, there go all the sewing things ! {Stoops, and 
upsets a chair.) 

Miss Amanda. I do believe the girl will drive me frantic ! 



38 STRATEGY. 

Mollie. I'll pick them all up. (Scrambles about on the floor, 
scattering the things about as fast as she takes them up.) 

Miss Amanda. Oh, let them alone ! Lizzie will be here pres- 
ently, and will pick them up. 

Mollie. Yes, ma'am. (Drops all she has.) Oh, oh! I see a 
kitten ! (Bushes out of the room.) 

Miss Amanda. Jennie ! 

Jennie. Yes, dear Auntie. 

Miss Amanda. (Sinking into a chair.) She will kill me ! What 
a voice ! Do you think she ever cried catfish ? What a maimer ! 
Or what an entire absence of manner ! No repose. 

Jennie. She is just released from the restraints of school, Auntie. 
If she lived here — 

Miss Amanda. I can never be too thankful she does not ! 

Jennie. In a day or two this excitement will be over, I am sure, 
and she will be all you wish. 

Mollie. (Outside.) Oh, oh, oh! (Enters, sobbing loudly.) 

Jennie. What is the matter ? 

Mollie. Oh, my finger ! my finger ! 

Miss Amanda. Stop that noise ! A child of two years old would 
not make more noise over a hurt. 

Mollie. Oh, Jennie, get some arnica — bind it up. 

Jennie. (Looking at finger.) "Why, what ails it ? (Aside.) I 
can't see anything. 

Mollie. (Aside.) "Well, you needn't say so. (Aloud.) I was 
chasing the dear, darling little kitten — by the way, Auntie, I upset 
the flower-stand in the hall. 

Miss Amanda. My Japan lilies ! 

Mollie. John is picking them up. But the dear little kitten 
ran out on the porch, and up and down, and I couldn't catch her. 
So I just went up to the parrot's cage, and said, " Pretty Polly !" 
and the horrid thing bit my finger. 

Miss Amanda. And served you right. 

Mollie. Well, she won't bite any more fingers in this house ! 

Miss Amanda. What do you mean ? 

Mollie. I just opened the cage door, and away she went. 

Miss Amanda, Oh, you dreadful girl ! (Going out.) 

Jennie. Oh, Mollie, that really was too bad. Auntie values the 
bird so much. 



STRATEGY. 39 

Mollie. She is in the luncheon-basket in my room. Yon can 
bring her down after I go to Mulberry Hall. {Sits down by 
Jennie.) 

Jennie. Did she bite you ? 

Mollie. Of course not. 

Enter Miss Amanda. 

Miss Amanda. I have sent all the servants into the garden to 
search for my dear parrot. I would not have taken a hundred 
dollars for the bud ! She converses like a rational being. My 
poor Polly ! (Sits down, sadly.) 

Mollie. (Jumping up suddenly.) Oh, there's a mouse! 

Miss Amanda. (Nervously.) Where ! I — are you sure? 

Mollie. (Jumping on sofa.) I saw it under the table. Oh, oh ! 
Kill it ! Oh, Tin so afraid of a mouse ! 

Miss Amanda. (Sitting down and drawing up her feet.) I never 
saw a mouse in the house. 

Jennie. (Stooping under table.) I think it is only your emery 
cushion that has rolled under the table, Auntie. 

Mollie. (Jumping down.) "Why, so it is ! I was sure it was a 
mouse ! 

Miss Amanda. (Fanning herself.) Jennie, get my vinaigrette. 
I am actually faint with all this confusion ! 

Mollie. I'll get it ! (Bushes out of room, upsetting a small table 
on her way.) 

Miss Amanda. My Japanese stand ! 

Jennie. (Picking up table.) It is not broken, Auntie. 

Miss Amanda. But everything in the house will be broken if 
this girl stays here. I really am inclined to let her go to Mulberry 
Hall, after all. 

Enter Mollie, unperceived by the others. 

Jennie. She is very anxious to go, Auntie. 

Miss Amanda. But it is really encouraging her in her hoydenish 
manners. She needs the quieting influence of a refined home, 

Jennie. But you are not strong, Auntie, and it must be very try- 
ing to your nerves to have so much noise. 

Mollie. (Aside.) I'll bring Jennie the prettiest present my pocket 
money will buy for that. 



40 STRATEGY. 

Miss Amanda. My poor nerves ! I do not know, indeed; if I 
shall not be obliged to send Mary to her friends. 

Mollie. (Bushing forward. ) Here are the salts, Auntie. I had 
an awful time finding them. I tossed over all the bureau drawers, 
and upset your work-box, and broke a Cologne bottle and every- 
thing trying to find them ! 

Miss Amanda. (Leaning back.) She will kill me ! 

Mollie. Oh, she is going to faint ! (Fans Miss Amanda vigor- 
ously. ) Oh, Jennie, run for some wine ! (Takes a glass of water 
and dips her handkerchief in it.) Oh, Auntie, don't faint ! (Dabs 
the wet handkerchief in her face.) 

Miss Amanda. (Sitting up suddenly.) Tou are too much ! I am 
drenched ! Glo away ! 

Mollie. (Sobbing.) I'm sure I thought people always had water 
in their faces when they were faint. 

Jennie. (Fanning Miss Amanda gently.) Do you feel better? 

Miss Amanda. Tes. 

Mollie. Oh, oh, there is a wasp on your cap ! Oh, it will sting 
you! 

Miss Amanda. Where? Take it off! 

Mollie. (Flapping the wet handkerchief about.) Sho ! sho ! Oh, 
see, it will sting you ! 

Miss Amanda. (Nervously. ) Oh, where is it ? 

Jennie. I don't see it, Mollie. 

Mollie. It just flew out of the window. Oh, I am all out of 
breath ! (Drops in a chair.) I am so afraid of a wasp. 

Jessie. (Aside to Mollie.) You are really too bad. 

Miss Amanda. (Family.) Where are my salts? 

Mollie. (Jumping up.) Now, where did I put that bottle ? 
(Tosses everything about.) I must have put it down here some- 
where. Jennie, didn't I give it to you ? 

Jennie. Look in your pocket. 

Mollie. (Putting her hand in her pocket.) Why, here it is ! 
Here, Auntie. (Pokes the bottle under Miss Amanda's nose.) 

Miss Amanda. (As if choking.) Bless me, Mary, you will 
strangle me. Oh! (Takes the bottle.) Go away ! Oo up-stairs, do. 

Mollie. ( Pouting.) Of course I will, if you don't want me here. 
(Exit Mollie.) 

Jennie. Yacation seems to excite her. 



STRATEGY. 41 

. Miss Amanda. It has driven her crazy. (An accordeon behind 
the scenes drawn in and out without any tune.) 
Jennie. (Aside.) She will never stop. 
Miss Amanda. Maiy has got that horrible accordeon again ! 
Mollie. (Singing loudly, and pulling accordeon to and fro.) 
" If a body meet a body, 
Comin ; thro' the rye, 
If a body kiss a body, 

Need a body cry ? 
Every lassie has her laddie, 

None, they say, ha'e I ; 
Yet a' the lads they smile at me, 
When comin' thro' the rye." 
( While Mollie sings, Miss Amanda presses her hands over her 
ears and grimaces.) 

Miss Amanda. G-o stop that noise, Jennie ! (Exit Jennie. ) I 
cannot endure this another hour. If she can make her friends at 
Mulberry Hall give her house room, I'll send her off to-morrow. 

Enter Mollie and Jennie. 

Mollie. Can't I play the accordeon, Auntie ? 

Miss Amanda. Tou may play what you like when you leave 
here. Pack up your trunk, and put the accordeon in. You will 
take the first train to Mulberry Hall to-morrow ! If your friends 
there can live under the same roof with you, it is more than I can. 
(Exit Miss Amanda.) 

Mollie. (Dancing about.) Hurrah ! "Who says that a little strat- 
egy is not a good thing? Come, Jennie, help me pack. (Twirls 
Jennie round in a waltz.) 

Curtain. 



42 THE PICNIC PAHTY. 



THE PICNIC PAETT. 



(g ha qactetjs, 

John — Laid up with a lame foot 
Mart — His Cousin. 
Howard— A City Boy. 
Gerald — A Country Boy. 
Laura — A very affected City Girl. 
Sarah — An uneducated Girl. 

SCENE. — A Sitting-room. John seated in an arm-chair, with 
his foot upon a hassock. Mary seated near him, sewing. 

John. It must be nearly time for them to be home from the pic- 
nic. 

Mary. Quite time. 

John. It was more than good-natured of you, Mollie, to stay at 
home with me. 

Mary. I should not ha^e enjoyed myself, knowing you were 
here alone. And (laughing) I am afraid Gerald would have quite 
neglected me. He has eyes and ears for no one else, since Laura 
came. 

John. I can understand that — for Laura is very pretty, if she is 
affected. But how her brother can fancy Sarah puzzles me. She 
never would study, and her English is something horrible to hear. 

Mary. I suppose Howard admires her because she is such a 
contrast to Laura. But he is as affected in his way as she is. 

John. But does not use up the dictionary quite so effectually. 

Mary. I hear quite a bustle in the entry. They must be here. 

Enter Gerald, with Laura leaning on his arm. Howard es- 
corting Sarah. All wear out-door dress, and carry baskets, 
fans, shawls and sun-umbrellas. 

Gerald. Do sit down. You must be quite tired out. 
Laura. (Sinking languidly into a chair.) I am utterly ex- 
hausted. 



THE PICNIC PARTY. 43 

Howard. Are yon very weary , Miss Sarah ? 

Sarah. Not a bit of it. I ain't never tired when I'm having a 
good time. I'm sorry yon didn't go, Mollie — we had a scrnmptions 
time. 

Laura. Ton are to be congratulated, John, upon the vicissitude 
that necessitated your absence from this so-called pleasure party. 
(Shudders.) 

Gerald. I am sorry you do not enjoy our rural pleasures, Miss 
Laura. 

Mary. Our picnics are usually very pleasant. 

John. Were you crowded, Howard ? 

Howard. Well, yes. There were not cars enough. 

Laura. The multitude of people was overpowering. I was 
actually faint with the oppressive atmosphere in the steam-car. 

Sarah. There was rather a jam, to be sure. But that ain't 
nothing, for such a short ride. I say, the more the merrier ! 

Gerald. T was positively ashamed of you, Sarah. You acted 
more like a boy than a young lady. 

John. (To Mary.) Gerald never discovered that before. 

Mary. (To John.) K"o; he rather admired Sarah's love of fan 
and frolic. 

John. Do tell us something about the picnic. 

Laura. I presume one of these boisterous assemblages of the 
vulgar multitude is the counterpart of another. We were called 
upon to admire a lot of trees and fences, water and hill, called 
scenery. 

Mary. The view from where you were is generally considered 
very fine. 

Laura. The aborigines may admire it. J have been abroad ! 

John, Aborigines ! That's cool. 

Gerald. It must be very inferior to the scenery in Europe. 

Sarah. Wall, that 'ere tarnal idiot of an Englishman that was 
here last summer pretty near went into fits over it. " Said it beat 
Europe all hollow. 

Howard. I thought it very fine. 

Laura. Oh, Howard, when you have seen Italy ! The soft 
azure of Italian skies, the vivid glow of her sunshine, the ethereal 
loveliness of her landscapes, quite spoil one for these American 
views. 



44 THE PICNIC PARTY. 

Sarah. "Well, if traveling makes a body turn up her nose at her 
own country, HI stay to home ! 

Howard. I applaud your patriotism. 

Mary. But you were surely not all day admiring the view ? 

Gerald. Oh, no, indeed ! "We had a delightful row upon the 
lake. 

Laura. {Shuddering.) Delightful! 

Sarah. Tip-top ! I row better and better every day, Mollie. 

Laura. For my part, I have no sympathy with these modern in- 
novations upon the delicate refinements formerly considered ap- 
propriate to the education of a lady. Bowing appears to me a 
most masculine pursuit. 

Howard. Awfully hard work, I call it ! 

Gerald. Most inappropriate for a lady. 

Sarah. Good gracious me ! "Why, you didn't let me have no 
rest nor peace till you'd learned me all about it. 

Mary. {Aside to John.) That is true. 

John. {Aside to Mary.) And she rows better than her teacher 
to-day. 

Laura. I suffered the most excruciating terrors on the water. 
My dread of the treacherous wave is constitutional. 

Sarah. "What did you go for, then ? Nobody made you. 

Laura. I yielded to the solicitations of your cousin. 

Gerald. I should never have urged the point, I assure you, had 
I supposed you would suffer. 

Sarah. {To Howard.) Don't you like rowing? 

Howard. {To Sarah.) With you for a companion. 

Sarah. Pooh ! Don't be soft ! You're too young ! 

Howard. {Stiffly.) Pardon me! 

Sarah. Oh, you needn't be uppish, neither ! 

Mary. Did you play lawn tennis or croquet ? 

Gerald. Of course we did. But Miss Laura found it fatiguing. 

Laura. {Languidly.) In the extreme. It wearied me to watch 
such boisterous games, for I certainly would never attempt to par- 
ticipate in them. 

Sarah. You'd oughter seen Laura, Mollie, when we met a 
drove of pigs ! 

Laura. {Sliuddering , and covering her face.) How can you re- 
call that horror ! It was unendurable ! The dreadful animals ran 



THE PICNIC PARTY. 45 

hither and thither, with the most appalling cries. I was in agonies 
of terror, lest one should tonch me. I am sure I should have fainted. 

Gerald. They are disgusting creatures to a person of refine- 
ment. 

Sarah. Sakes alive, Jerry ! "Why, you was as fond of that hog 
you riz for the agricultural fair as if it had been a kitten ! "Why, 
he'd poke out his snout when he seen you comin' with a bucket o' 
corn and milk as if he was a human critter ! Fro. sure you most 
cried when he was took to market after the fair. 

Howard. One becomes attached to any pet. 

Laura. The idea of a -pet pig ! 

Mary. I do not wonder at some surprise. But it was more 
pride than affection Gerald felt, I imagine, as his hog took the prize. 

Howard. I am sure, Laura, your nerves were not more power- 
fully affected than mine. I was escorting Miss Sarah to a favorite 
spot, when we encountered a horrible savage animal. 

Sarah. The mildest cow in the county ! 

Howard. Miss Sarah bore up with heroic fortitude, but I was 
really quite overcome. 

Mary. Poor fellow ! "Was your basket well supplied, Sarah ? 

Sarah. Enough for a regiment. 

Laura. But nothing tempting. I was quite faint, I assure you, 
until Gerald procured me a glass of iced lemonade. 

Mary. I thought the sandwiches were very delicate. 

Howard. Ajid the cold chicken was delightful. 

Laura. But one cannot enjoy even the most delicate viands, with- 
out the elegancies of a well-appointed table. Imagine, I saw girls — 
I cannot call them young ladies — with chicken in their fingers ! 
actually eating the meat off the bone ! It was shocking ! 

Sarah. But awfully good! For my part, being as hungry as a 
bear, I found everything splendid. I ate a whole chicken, I am 
sure. 

Howard. {Aside.) I think she did. Her appetite was some- 
thing appalling ! 

Sarah. Mne sandwiches ! 

Laura. Horror ! Half a one would suffice me for an entire day. 

Sarah. Six hard-boiled eggs. 

Gerald. Sarah, do spare us the further recital of such horrible 
gluttony. 



46 THE PICNIC PARTY. 

Sarah. Fve seen the time when yon conld eat your allowance 
at a picnic, Mr. Jerry, if yon are so finiky all of a sndden. You 
didn't make nothing of a whole apple-pie last year, after nearly 
emptying a basket of snbstantials. 

John. Ont-door exercise gives everybody an appetite. I can eat 
my share at a picnic, I assnre yon ! 

Laura. Bnt there were no goblets, no sance -plates, no silver, 
no finger-glasses ! 

Gerald. It was very rough. 

Sarah. We will pack all the table appointments next year, 
Jerry, and let you carry them ! 

Gerald. Ton are really too good ! Probably I shall decline as- 
sisting at these festivities again. 

Mary. That will be too bad. Yon are generally the life of the 
party ! 

Sarah. Bnt he wasn't to-day — not a bit of it. He was a-lan- 
gnishing abont as lackadaisical as could be, and never doing noth- 
ing ail day to help be jolly. "Why, he wouldn't even swing Laura, 
when I give up my place to her. 

Gerald. Miss Laura declined the recreation. 

Laura. Oh, it would utterly prostrate me! I never could 
imagine the pleasure of swinging. 

Sarah. And yon wouldn't see-saw, neither ! 

Laura. Most assuredly not ! 

Howard. I had no idea it was such fun, Laura ! Miss Sarah 
showed me quite a number of entirely new pleasures to-day. 

Sarah. But you can't climb a tree, Howard. I thought I should 
a' died laughing when yon stood lookin' at the tree I asked you to 
climb for those great yellow pears, as if it was Mount Yociferous ! 
Now, Jerry, he'll go up a tree like lightning. He got me lots of 
those pears last summer ; but I don't suppose he could a' climbed 
a tree to-day to save his life ! 

John. (To Gerald.) Your tastes seem to have undergone a great 
change, Gerald. 

Gerald. (Loftily.) I am no longer a boy, and do not care to 
scramble up trees like a monkey ! 

John. Seventeen ! Don't renounce your boyhood too early. You 
may wish it back some day. 

Mary. Was the band there ? 



THE PICNIC PARTY. 47 

Sarah. Oh, yes ! And the platform for dancing. 

Laura. Dancing ? I assure you the poetry of motion was utterly 
annihilated, Mary, in the boisterous hopping about we witnessed 
to-day. I actually saw some of the gentlemen take off their coats, 
and dance with them over their arms ! 

Sarah. That's the way to dance — with, your heart in your toes ! 

Howard. The dancing was enjoyable, compared to the music ! 

Laura. Each instrument played in a different key. The discord 
was appalling. 

Mary. That is very singular. Our band is generally considered 
to be a very fine one. 

Sarah. So it is ! 

Gerald. It probably appears fine to our uncultivated ears ; but 
you forget Miss Laura has heard music abroad. 

Laura. (Affectedly.) Italian opera rather unfits one for rustic 
fiddling. 

John. But Italian opera would be rather difficult music to dance 
quadrilles to. 

Howard. But we have heard Strauss' waltzes in Paris ! Oh, 
Miss Sarah, if you could only see Paris ! 

Sarah. But I can't speak no French. 

Howard. Tou would soon acquire the language. 

Gerald. (Aside to Mary.) She had better acquire her native 
language first. It makes me shudder to listen to her. 

Mary. (Drily.) You endured it very philosophically until your 
fine city friends came to visit you. 

Gerald. It does make one fastidious to meet with such refine- 
ment as Miss Laura's. 

Mary. But it should not make you neglect old friends. 

Sarah. Oh, Molly ! Bobby Bates has come home from college, 
and was to the picnic. I wish you'd a' been there and seen him. 
(Imitating dandy airs. ) How d'ye do, Miss Saraw ! Foine day ! 
He was all dressed in store clothes, as fine as a fiddle— white 
waistcoa 4 -, shiny boots, silk hat, and he was afraid to move for fear 
he'd spoil them, so he just stood up against a tree, and sucked the 
top of a little cane, as if it was sugar candy. I nearly died 
a-laughing. "Ain't you a-going to dance?" sez I. (Imitating.) 
" I nevaw dance," says he. " "Won't you row on the lake ?" says 
I. " I nevaw wow " — he said wow, Moihe ! And he had a fan, a 



48 THE PICNIC PARTY. 

little fan in his pocket ; and when he got tired of sucking the little 
cane, he fanned himself — this way. {Imitates.) 

Laura. I am sure, Sarah, Mr. Bates was the most perfect gen- 
tleman at the picnic. 

John. {Aside.) How will G-erald like that? 

Gerald. {Aside.) Insufferable puppy ! 

Sarah. Oh, oh ! There's manners, when there's three of them 
here. You'd oughter say, "Present company always excepted!" 

Laura. {Pettishly.) I shall certainly not come to you, Sarah, 
to be taught etiquette. {Rising.) I am going to my room to change 
my dress. I am sure it is all dust and mud with this disgusting 
picnic. 

Gerald. Allow me to carry your shawl and parasol up-stairs. 
(Gerald and Laura go out.) 

Howard. I believe I will follow Laura's example. {Exit 
Howard.) 

Mart. I am afraid you did not have a very nice time, Sarah. 

Sarah. Oh, but I did ! It was the best of fun to watch Jerry 
and Laura ; Jerry tried to imitate all Howard's airs ; and Laura — 
you'd oughter seen her ! If there was a wasp flew within forty 
feet of her, she'd screech as if it was a hyena, and she nearly had 
hysterics over a stray goose that poked its head over her shoulder 
while she was eating some ice cream. Dear creature ! that was 
all Jerry could find she could eat! {Imitating.) "My appetite 
is so fastidious !" and keeping Jerry fanning her, and holding up 
her parasol ! She wouldn't dance, and she made such a fuss in 
the boat, you'd a' thought we was drowning all the time ! 

John. Gently, gently, Sarah ! She is our guest, remember. 

Sarah. True, true, bless ye ! {Imitating.) Well, I think I 
also will retire to my room, to remove the dust and mud of this 
disgusting picnic. 

Curtain. 



AN ASPIEANT FOR FAME. 49 



AN" ASPIBAlsTT FOE FAME. 



Mr. Stephen Critical — An Editor. 
Richard Rover — A Young Writer. 
Bob— The Office Boy. 

SCENE.— An Editor's Office. Large table, covered with papers, 
books, manuscript, pen and ink, and other literary matters. Mr. 
Critical looking over the mail. 

Mr. Critical. Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, seventeen — seventeen 
more manuscripts ! The world has gone mad on manuscript- writ- 
ing! (Opens letter.) H'rn — genius on the rampage. (Beads.) 
"Dear Sir: I wonder you are not ashamed of the paltry sum 
offered in your letter for my sonnet on sunrise. Please return the 
manuscript at your earliest convenience. John Jenkinson" — with 
a fearful black dash under earliest. Now there's gratitude ! The 
man wrote such a pitiful letter — starving and freezing, apparently 
— that I concluded to send him five dollars in pure charity ! "Well, 
I'm just live dollars richer, and he is one page of fearful trash in 
hand. Bob ! 

Enter Bob, in shirt sleeves, very much begrimed with printer's ink. 

Bob. Did you call, sir ? 

Mr. Critical. Any callers while I was out ! 

Bob. Yes, sir ; Miss Araminta Pinkerton. 

Mr. Critical. (Shuddering.) What did you tell her? 

Bob. Said you'd gone to California, sir, and that we didn't hope 
to see you for three months. 

Mr. Critical. Bob, remind me to add a quarter to your week's 
salary. 

Bob. Thank ye, sir. 

Mr. Critical. Anybody else called ? 

Bob. Yes, sir,; the man with the coal bill. 



50 AN ASPIRANT FOR FAME. 

Mr. Critical. "Well ? 

Bob. Said you was out, sir ; and didn't know as you'd be back 
to-day. 

Mr. Critical. All right. Anybody else ? 

Bob. Party from the country, sir, with carpet-bag. Wasn't sure 
about him, and he said that he would call again. 

Mr. Critical. All right, Bob. It may be my uncle. Anybody 
else? 

Bob. No, sir. Shall I show the country party in if he calls 
again % 

Mr. Critical. Yes, and you can wait, Bob, and see if it is my 
uncle. If it is anybody else, give him ten minutes, and then come 
in and say I'm wanted, as usual. 

Bob. Yes, sir. {Taking noise outside.) Somebody at the 
counter now, sir. {Exit Bob.) 

Mr. Critical. I hope it was Uncle John. I'd like to- run down 
to the farm with him for a week. 

Enter Richard Rover, with a huge old-fashioned carpet-hag. 

Richard. Good morning, sir ! 

Mr. Critical. Good morning ! 

Richard. Mr. Critical? 

Mr. Critical. That is my name, sir. 

Richard. Editor of the Smokingtown " Spread Eagle " ? 

Mr. Critical. Yes, sir. 

Richard. {Sitting down.) I called to see about some contribu- 
tions to your paper. {Opening hag and talking out a folded manu- 
script. ) I've only lately taken to literature, and really, money is not 
so much of an object to me, as a desire to substitute something 
good for the horrible trash now printed. 

Mr. Critical. {Drily.) "Very benevolent ! 

Richard. Now I have a story here— you see, sir, I don't bother 
about inspiration or anything of that sort ; I write upon a plan 
— a plan, sir. To be sure it is somewhat confusing at times to get 
your characters out of a snarl, though very easy to get them in. I 
am sure sometimes the heroine herself has not been more puzzled 
about her escape from her difficulties. Indeed, she has the con- 
solation of knowing she must get out somehow ; but I have to de- 
vise ways and means. 



AN ASPIRANT FOR FAME. 51 

Mr. Critical. Really, sir, my time will not admit of my lis- 
tening to — 

Richard. (Interrupting.) No, no, of course not. This story in 
my hand, sir, is in the modern sensational style— without proba- 
bility, possibility — 

Mr. Critical. Has it ability of any kind ? 

Richard. (Laughing.) Yery good, very good. Nothing, sir, 
can be more complete than this story. My plot is all double knots 
and intricacies that are nicely drawn out and wound off in 
even threads into neat little balls of explanation at the end. It is 
called, " Ernestine, the Paper Collar Girl ; or, The Mysteries of the 
Fifth Floor Parlor." (Speaking rapidly.) The heroine, a pure 
blonde, of course, of the most fragile description, with azure eyes 
that make the sky mud-color by comparison, goes through adven- 
tures that would kill a circus acrobat in six days. She dares the 
raging storm, the earthquake, is saturated and stunned, faints in 
all the proper places, recovers in the nick of time ; is thrown from 
her horse, drowned in a river, plunged in dungeons for months 
without change of raiment, and comes forth as fresh as a daisy ; 
lives in a cave and never heard of influenza ; brought up on a des- 
olate sea-coast, she enters society with all the accomplishments of 
a modern governess ; is snubbed, scolded, persecuted, driven from 
palace to cave, from dungeon to desert island, from cottage to 
storm-driven mountains ; elopes in the dead hours of the night 
with the wrong man, who stabs her lover just as the heroine springs 
from the turret chamber window into his arms ; escapes from a 
villain by a series of most heart-rending adventures, and appears 
at the end of the story, beautiful as a dream, having carried her 
harp, preserved her snowy muslin unspotted, and kept fresh flow- 
ers in her hair throughout. 

Mr. Critical. I am afraid, sir, your story will be too sensa- 
tional for our columns. 

Richard. Oh, no ! you must become acquainted with my hero. 
He has not his equal — a Spanish cloak and jetty curls— always on 
hand, like patent blacking, to catch the heroine as she falls faint- 
ing from her horse, to steady the rope ladder for her fairy foot- 
steps, to accompany her sweet voice in dulcet songs. Strong 
as Hercules, beautiful as Apollo, he defies tyrants, bursts bonds, 
recovers from fatal wounds, discovers poisoned bowls, evades assas- 



52 AN ASPIEANT FOR FAME. 

sins, and finally — still in the Spanish cloak — dashes in when the 
heroine is being forced to marry the villain, denounces the perpe- 
trators of this hideons sacrifice, and carries off his Angeline— no, 
Ernestine — in triumph. There are, of course, the usual accessories 
— nuns, monks, daggers, concealed doors, secret staircases, dimly- 
burning lamps, mysterious noises, poison, shrouds, skeletons, 
ghosts, bats, smugglers — all the paraphernalia complete. 
Mr. Critical. Rather too thrilling, I am afraid, sir. 

Enter Bob. 

Bob. Gentleman waiting to see you, sir. 

Mr. Critical. In one moment. (Exit Bob. ) 

Richard. (Plunging into carpet-bag and finding anotlier man- 
uscript.) "Well, here is a society novel. 

Mr. Critical. Really, Mr. — 

Richard. Rover, sir; Richard Rover. 

Mr. Critical. There is some one waiting for me, and — 

Richard. "Won't keep you five minutes. Just give you an idea 
of this. (Speaking rapidly.) As I said, society novel— heroine 
bom in lap of luxury, reared in Oriental splendor, beautiful as 
Yenus, accomplished as all the Fine Muses, and two or three more 
thrown in; wears No. 5 gloves and No. 1 boots, jewels enough for 
a king's ransom, Parisian costumes — 

Mr. Critical. Really, Mr. Rover — 

Richard. Stem papa, fashionable mamma. Only child, of 
course — who ever bothers heroines with brothers and sisters ? Lover 
— lover is scorned by her mother, insulted hy her father — poor, of 
course — equally, of course, adored by heroine — heir, really, to some 
three or four millions — will lost or stolen-^-proves to be in hidden 
drawer. By the way, Mr. Critical, I wonder it never occurs to he- 
roes, in these circumstances, to smash all the furniture in the house ; 
it would be certain to pay. 

Mr. Critical. Yery likely; but if you will excuse me, Mr. 
Rover — 

Richard. Just one moment, sir. The hero is an artist — gives his 
betrothed a huge diamond, small private fortune in itself— leaves 
her fainting on the floor, and goes to Italy — 

Mr. Critical. Yes, I see — but my time — 

Richard. Of course the heroine is orphaned, and plunged into 



AN ASPIRANT FOR FAME. 53 

the depths of poverty ; learns to sew, cook, scour, scrub, wash and 
bake, preserving her dainty costume and milk-white hands, how- 
ever ; goes out as a governess, slandered, and finally falls fainting 
in the street, from starvation, just as her lover passes and recog- 
nizes the huge diamond, already mentioned, flashing upon her 
finger. 

Mr. Critical. Yery fine, no doubt ; but really we are crowded 
with society novels. If you will excuse me — 

Kichard. (Replacing manuscript in bag, and taking out 
another.) I have a domestic romance here. There is a blue-eyed 
bread-and-butter heroine, and a great whole-souled woman who is 
scorned for the baby-faced idiot. There is a rival, a villain — mild, 
of course, as the novel is domestic — a jockey, a spy ; brain fever, 
recovery, dying confession of villain — a hero, of course. 

Mr. Critical. But, really, Mr. Kover— 

Kichard. (Putting manuscript back and talcing another.) Per- 
haps this will suit you better ; this is really thrilling : heroine stolen 
in infancy, elopes in youth, innocently marries two men, supposing 
herself a widow ; tried for bigamy — 

Mr. Critical. I am afraid, Mr. Kover, that want of room will 
compel me to decline. 

Enter Bob. 

Bob. G-entleman's in a hurry, sir. (Exit Bob.) 

Mr. Critical. I really must ask you to excuse me, Mr. Kover. 

Kichard. Certainly, certainly ; just one moment more. This is 
a military and nautical romance — splendid thing, sir, suit the boys. 
Full of slang, military movements and ship yarns. The heroes 
are twins. Sailor, tortured by a brutal guardian, runs away to 
sea — 

Mr. Critical. I am sorry to interrupt you, sir ; but really I 
must ask you — 

Kichard. Bundle— three cents— aquiline nose, raven curls — 
brutal captain, pirates, lovely maiden to rescue, triumphant career 
— while the soldier pursues equally wonderful adventures on 
land ; camp life, fight with Indians, scalped, tied to a stake to 
be burned, rescued by White Fawn, who proves to be an heiress 
captured by Indians in infancy, and adopted by them — 

Mr. Critical. Keally, Mr. Kover, I am afraid we cannot use 
your articles-. 



54 AN ASPIRANT FOR FAME. 

Richard. Do you prefer poetry? I have seventy-nine odes, 
forty- six sonnets, twenty- three short poems, one epic, and a tip- 
top tragedy in five acts. 

Enter Bob. 

Bob. I'm afraid that gentleman will go, Mr. Critical, and he 
says his business is of the utmost importance. {Exit Bob.) 

Mr. Critical. You see, sir, I cannot spare another moment. 

Richard. Well, he quick, then. I'll wait until you come hack. 

Mr. Critical. {Aside.) Well, of all the sublime impudence! 
{Aloud.) I am afraid, Mr. Rover, I cannot converse with you any 
further to-day. 

Richard. But you have not told me which of my stories you 
prefer ? 

Mr. Critical. Well, to be frank with you, Mr. Rover, I do not 
think any of them will suit us. 

Richard. Oh, but I must publish something, after spending so 
much time over them ! 

Mr. Critical. I am afraid you will find most of the periodicals 
are fully supplied. 

Richard. But I will publish. I will see " Ernestine, the Paper 
Collar Girl," in print, if I pay for it as an advertisement. 

Mr. Critical. {Very drily.) Twenty cents a line. 

Richard. There are about three hundred thousand lines, more 
or less. I'll figure it up. 

Mr. Critical. You will find it rather expensive, I fear, Mr. 
Rover. 

Richard. {Dramatically.) What is money to fame ! 

Mr. Critical. Yery true. 

Richard. {Very tragically.) What are base mercenary calcula- 
tions, when your soul is in arms ! 

Mr. Critical. Just so. 

Richard. {Flourishing carpet-bag.) I scorn such paltry consid- 
erations. I'll print or die ! {Exit Richard.) 

Mr. Critical. {Falling bach in his chair.) I'll have a chain put 
on the door ! I'll buy a revolver ! Jupiter, what a man ! Bob ! 

Enter Bob. 

Bob, you young rascal, does anybody want to see me ? 
Bob. No, sir; but I thought you was being bored, sir. 



AN ASPIRANT FOR FAME. 55 

. Mr. Critical. {Groaning.) Bored! 

Bob. And so I come in, sir. The editor of the "Speaking 
Trumpet. " was in, sir. 

Mr. Critical. Ah! 

Bob. And I told him that you were engaged with Mr. Wilkie 
Collins, who'd come over from England a-purpose to see about 
writing a story for the " Spread Eagle." You should a' seen him, 
sir ; he just turned green. 

Mr. Critical. Bob, Bob ! I am afraid your morals are becom- 
ing perverted. 

Bob. If that country party should come back, Mr. Critical ? 

Mr. Critical. (Jumping up.) Barricade the door ! Tell him 
I've gone to Europe ! 

Enter Eichard. 

Eichard. I just called in to say there was one of those stories I 
didn't mention. (Opening bag. Exit Bob.) It is something en- 
tirely original. I'll read you a little extract. 

Mr. Critical. (Running Ms hands over Ms hair.) Confusion 
and lunacy ! is there no way to get rid of this man ? 

Enter Bob, with every appearance of terror. 

Bob. Fire ! The whole back office is afire ! 

Mr. Critical, Eun for the fire-engines ! (Exit Mr. Critical, 
hastily.) 

Eichard. (Following him.) "We can just step outside, and you 
can hear this on the pavement while they are putting out the fire. 
(Exit Eichard.) 

Bob. Well, I am beat ! Ill run around the back way, and tell 
Mr. Critical there ain't no fire. 

Curtaln. 



56 THE NEW BOY. 



THE 1$~EW BOY. 



Horace— The new Boy, just arrived at school. 
Stephen, \ 

Alfred, >■ Boys already in the school. 
Theodore, ) 

SCENE. — A Bed-room. Small bed, with white spread ; bureau, 
washstand, table and trunk. Closet in background. Horace 
kneeling before trunk. 

Horace. Heigho ! I wonder how I shall like boarding-school ! 
It won't be much use to get homesick while father and mother are 
in Europe ! {Takes a coat out of trunk.) There ! this coat is the 
last thing I'll unpack ! I think I have all my things nicely ar- 
ranged now, and this I will hang in the closet. ( Goes to closet and 
enters, nearly closing the door.) 

Stephen. {Outside.) Coast clear? 

Alfred. {Outside.) Clear. 

Theodore. {Outside.) Don't miss our chance, then. 

Enter Stephen, Alfred and Theodore, treading very softly. 

Stephen. I was afraid we wouldn't get in here before bed-time, 
and it's half the fun to set the traps. 

Alfred. And he's really green — never was away from his dear 
mammy before ! 

Theodore. Dear little baby! "We'll make him a nice little 
apple-pie bed, so we will! {They make up the bed, doubling one 
sheet, to appear at the top like two.) 

Stephen. I've got a little tar to put on the pillow, so that when 
we come in to tie his legs to the bed-post, he can't lift his head up. 
{Smears tar on pillow .) 

Theodore. And I've got some wax to put in his boots. Where 
are they i He had on his slippers at tea-time. 



THE NEW BOY. 57 

Alfred. (Finding boots beside bed.) Here, give me the wax. 
(Drops some lumps in boots.) 

Stephen. Where is the tin basin of water ? 

Theodore. At the door. 

Alfred. (Getting a chair.) I'll put it on the door. (Goes out 
side.) 

Theodore. Get it on, so that we can go out. 
> Alfred. (Outside.) All right! But he will give the door a 
push, of course. 

Stephen. And he won't get wet — oh, no ! 

Alfred. (Entering.) That's all right. We can get in and out 
easily, but the least touch will topple the basin over, and drench 
whoever is coming in. 

Theodore. That is about all we can do now ! 

Stephen. But we must understand fully our plan of action. 

Theodore. At nine o'clock the gas will be turned out, as usual, 
in the cellar. As soon as the house is dark, I will give a low 
whistle. 

Stephen. Let us hear. (Theodore whistles one low note.) 

Alfred. All right ! 

Theodore. None of us will undress, just taking off our coats 
and boots. When I whistle, you two rise softly, and follow me. 
Steve, you will bring the ink-bottle to grease his hair with. 

Stephen. All right ! 

Theodore. And you, Al, will bring a nice dose of castor oil to 
give him, for fear he should be ill. 

Alfred. Correct ! 

Theodore. And I have the rope to tie his hands and feet, so 
the pretty dear can take his medicine and have his hair oiled nice- 
ly, without making any fuss. (Bell rings.) 

Stephen. Bless me ! there's the retiring-bell. (All three run 
out. ) 

Horace. (Coming forward.) I begin to think that my being 
excused to-night from any of the evening exercises, on account of 
the fatigue of traveling, was more of a favor than I had imagined. 
So that is the initiation, is it? Perhaps, my very dear young 
friends, you may not have quite so much fun as you anticipate. 
(Opens trunk.) I wonder where I put that package of red pepper 
and strong snuff-mother gave me to sprinkle on my overcoat in 



58 THE M¥ BOY. 

the spring. Oh, here it is ! ( Takes small package from trunk, 
and sprinkles contents upon the bed.) Phew! how strong it is ! 
Oh, the wax ! I must shake that out of my boots before I put 
them on again, or I might want two boot-jacks and a darky to get 
them off. (Shakes wax out of hoots beside the bed, and crosses 
floor to entrance.) And while I am about it, where is my box of 
beans for my shooter ? I had it a little while ago. Oh, here it is 
on the table. (Sprinkles hard white beans all over the floor.) I 
fancy, as my slippers are thick, and my visitors leave their boots 
behind them, I'll have the best of my carpet. And I'm to be 
drenched, too. (Fills basin on washstand with water, and stands 
it on the floor beside the bed.) There, my dears ; if the beans make 
your dear little toes feverish, you can cool them off in that ! Is 
that all? Oh, oh! (Dances about.) I forgot my pumpkin! 
What fun ! I thought it would do for charades or something, but 
this is lots better. ( Goes to his trunk again. ) Come here, my 
beauty ! (Takes out a hollow pumpkin, with a hideous grinning 
face cut on one side, and a candle behind the face.) Have I got a 
match to light you up by and by ? "Where's your wig? (Takes a 
lot of black wool, made in a wig, out of trunk, and puts it on 
pumpkin.) And there is a broom in the closet. (.Gets broom, and 
fastens pumpkin upon it.) Ah! as my bed is made with only owe 
sheet, here is the other, as handy as possible. (Drapes sheet over 
broom and stick. ) Oh, you sweet little dear, won't you be hand- 
some when I light you up ! (Puts broom in closet) As I don't 
care about sticking to the pillow, being tied to the bed, dosed and 
inked, I guess I will not go to bed! (Draws chair to closet.) I 
can sit here very comfortably ; and if I am besieged, there is a 
catch inside the closet, so that I can fasten myself in, and only a 
lock outside, of which I will take the key, so I cannot he fastened 
in. (Takes key of closet, and pockets it.) Now, young gentle- 
men, whenever you are ready, so am I. (Sits down near the 
closet.) But don't hurry on my account. (Clock strikes nine.) " ? Tis 
now the very witching time of night !" (Lights loivered suddenly, 
leaving stage almost dark.) I hear a stealthy stir in the next 
room. (Low whistle outside.) That is the signal — now for the ad- 
vance ! (A moment of silence, then a crash, splash and exclama- 
tion.) My ducking, gentlemen; but you are quite welcome 
to it! 



THE NEW BOY. 59 

Enter Stephen, Alfred and Theodore, shaking their heads, 

and 'wringing their sleeves as if wet. Tliey wear no coats or 

hoots, and stop near entrance to listen. 

Alfred. Goodness — I am drenched ! 

Theodore. I am saturated. 

Stephen. (Softly.) Now how in the world conld he get in 
without upsetting that basin? (Horace snores, out not loudly.) 

Alfred. I wonder if the noise wakened him? (All listen, 
Horace continues to snore very faintly. All the conversation 
must be in low tones.) 

Stephen. No, I can hear him breathe. 

Theodore. I suppose he's awfully tired, traveling all day. 
Now, boys, follow me ! (Steps forward and hack hastily.) 

Stephen. "What's the matter ? 

Theodore. I stepped on something hard. Gracious, how it 
hurt! 

Alfred. (Going forward.) Oh, come on! (Limps.) Oh! 

Stephen. (Going forward.) What ails you two fellows? 
(Limps.) Why, the floor's all over pebbles ! (All three stop and 
rub their feet. Then they grope forward, limping and jerking as 
if walking on the beans, and twitching their feet as if treading on 
the wax and sticking.) 

Stephen. What on earth has he spilled all over the floor? 

Horace. (Aside.) Don't you wish you knew ! 

Theodore. I am perfectly crippled. Peels like shot. 

Alfred. (Going to ted.) You fellows make an awful noise! 
(Falls over basin.) Goodness ! 

Theodore. "What is that? 

Alfred. Basin of water. I am drenched now. 

Stephen. Must have been soaking his feet. 

Theodore. Hush! (All listen. Horace continues vo snore.) 

Stephen. He's surely the eighth sleeper, if he is not one of the 
seven. (Alfred sneezes violently. All the boys lean over the bed 
and sneeze.) 

Stephen. (Feeling pillow.) He's not here! (Horace dodges 
into closet, and a click is heard.) 

Theodore. Not here ! (All grope about, pitching on the beans, 
falling over the furniture, and feeling about.) 

Stephen. He's in the closet ! 



60 THE NEW BOY. 

Alfred. {Pulling closet door.) No, he's not — it's locked ! 

Theodore. I'll bet Mrs. Mason has taken him to her room for 
some snpper. She often does ask the new boys. (Sits down on 
ted, and jumps up, sneezing violently.) 

Alfred. What a frand ! 

Stephen. "What is to be done ? Oh, bother those hard things 
on the floor ! (All three come forward.) 

Horace. (Softly opens closet door and steals to entrance.) I'll 
lock them in here and have my fun. (Appears to go to door and 
return.) Prisoners not recommended to mercy. (Steals softly hack 
to closet.) 

Theodore. Shall we go back to bed, or wait here till he comes up ? 

Alfred. Let's go back. 

Stephen. Oh, pshaw ! Let's wait here ! 

Alfred, What for? He may bring a lamp. (Horace gives an 
awful groan.) 

Theodore. What was that ! 

Stephen. Come, no tricks on each other ! 

Alfred. It was at the other end of the room. (Horace groans 
again. The boys huddle close together.) 

Alfred. I'm going to bed ! (Goes towards door.) 

Theodore. (Following him.) So am I. 

Stephen. Well, I'm not going to stay here alone. (Horace 
groans again.) 

Theodore. Come on ! (All go to door and rattle the lock.) 

Stephen. The door is locked. (All come to front of stage.) 

Alfred. There will be a pretty fuss in the morning, if we are 
not in our room. (Horace opens closet door, and comes sloivly 
forward, covered with sheet, holding the pumpkin head above his 
own ; the candle lighted.) 

Theodore. (Looking round. ) Oh ! ( All three look around, and 
scream, as if terrified.) 

Alfred. Oh, what is that ? (All three huddle together. Horace 
stands still, centre of stage.) 

Theodore. Oh, if we were only in our own room ! 

Horace. (In a hollow voice.) What do you here? 

Alfred. It is somebody dressed up. 

Horace. (Naturally.) You don't say so ! (Turns the broom, so 
that the candle shows, and the lights are raised.) 



THE NEW BOY. 61 

Stephen, I do believe it is the new boy ! 

Horace. {Putting the broom against the wall and coming for- 
vjard.) You do ! Well, I am of the same opinion myself. 23ow, 
gentlemen, you can commence these little tricks you proposed 
whenever you like. Only I give you fair warning, before you touch 
me, that I am stuck full of pins, and have both hands full of red 
pepper and snuff. 

Theodore. (Laughing.) I guess you've been at boarding-school 
before ! 

Stephen. Of course he has. 

Horace. Allow me to remark that you are entirely mistaken. 
I never saw the inside of a boarding-school until this evening. 

Stephen. Well, I guess we are quits ; for if we intended to 
bother you, you succeeded in bothering us. I shall be lame for a 
month ! 

Theodore. And we are all drenched. 

Horace. (Politely.) If you would like to retire, here is the key 
of the door. (Gives key to Alfred.) 

Alfred. (Very politely.) Thanks. 

Horace. G-ood evening, gentlemen. Allow me to light you 
across the hall. (Takes broom up to light them. Exeunt Stephen, 
Theodore and Alfred, all four boys making exaggerated boivs, 
and saying G-ood evening, as they go out.) 

Curtain. 



62 WHICH WAS THE HERO f 



WHICH WAS THE HEEO ? 



Gilbert. Frank. 

Howard. 

During the whole of the conversation the manner of the boys must be very 
strongly contrasted, Howard speaking dramatically, with much gesticulation, 
Frakk in a slow, drawling tone and lounging attitude. 

SCENE. — A Sitting-room, with a large window centre of back- 
ground. Gilbert sitting near the window, reading, Frank 
and Howard in the foreground, playing chess. 

Frank. Check! 

Howard. {Moving.) I see! 

Frank. {Frowning.) H'm ! Yes ! I did not notice that knight ! 
(Moves.) You've certainly got me in a tight place now. 

Howard. (Conceitedly.) If there's anything I can do well, it is 
to play chess. 

Frank. (Studying the hoard.) Yes ! H'm! That castle covers 
this bishop, and the pawn — h'm!— yes— - (Suddenly.) Check- 
mate ! 

Howard. Impossible ! Why, so it is ! Nearly an horn* playing, 
and beaten at last. (Rising.) We will not play any more now; I 
am tired. (Pushes the board aside.) 

Frank. (Yawning.) So am I. "What are yon reading, Gilbert? 

Gilbert. Scott! " The Lady of the Lake." 

Howard. (Dramatically.) Ah! those were grand scenes and 
times ! (Reciting, tvith much gesture.) 

u Fitz- James was brave : Though to his heart 
The life-blood thrilled with sudden start, 
He mann'd himself with dauntless air, 
Keturned the chief his haughty stare ; 
His back against a rock he bore, 
And firmly placed his foot before 



WHICH WAS THE HERO % 63 

\ Come one, come all ! This rock shall fly 
Prom its firm base as soon as I !' " 

Frank. That's a good climax ! — I mean a good place to stop 
shouting. 

Howard. Frank, yon are as tame as a cat. Nothing ronses yon. 
Now reading Scott makes me discontented. 

Frank. Don't read him, then. 

Howard. Everything seems so tame and commonplace after 
reading " Marrnion'' and " Ivanhoe." If only J- had lived in those 
days ! 

Frank. These days are decidedly more comfortable. 

Howard. {Contemptuously.) Comfortable! As if a hero cared 
for comfort. If I conld only be a knight, to don my armor, and 
go out upon a mail-clad charger (dramatically) to conquer or to 
die! 

Frank. (Lazily.) Or fight wind-mills. 

Gilbert. Like Don Quixote. 

Frank. Precisely. I am not devoted to mail-clad chargers my- 
self, and imagine armor must have been decidedly awkward. 

Howard. But how grand to be the champion of a good cause, 
and ride forth under the smiles of fair ladies, like the knights of 
Christendom ! I'd like to be a soldier, anyhow. Fancy fighting 
six or eight of the enemy single-handed, (striking an attitude, and 
gesticulating as if flourishing a sword) cutting down your foes 
right and left till they lay slain around you ! 

Frank. But suppose they cut you down ! 

Howard. Never ! Heroes are fearless, and corn-age conquers ! 
Only cowards are ever defeated. 

Gilbert. I say, I thought you fellows were going to play chess. 
Nobody can read if you're going to be chattering like two insane 
parrots. 

Howard. Oh, we're tired of chess ! 

Gilbert. I'll go into the reading-room, then. (Gilbert goes out.) 

Howard. Gilbert's a regular book-worm. For my part, I get 
enough of reading in school-time. 

Frank. Do you ? I read lots in the holidays. 

Howard. So do I, about giants and ogres. 

Frank. Stuff and nonsense ! 

Howard. I don't agree with vou. I think it makes a fellow 



64 WHICH WAS THE HERO? 

brave to read of desperate battles with monsters nine feet high, 
and two-headed magicians. 

Frank. Eead history, then. You can find plenty of desperate 
encounters there. 

Howard. I mean to be a soldier when I leave school, to do 
something grand, and leave a glory of fame upon my name. 

Frank. {Stretching himself lazily.) Well, I mean to be a mer- 
chant. I have no taste for blood and thunder. I very much think 
if I were to find myself in a battle I should make tracks for the 
rear in a great hurry. 

Howard. Be a coward ! I would not ! I would face the ene- 
my, sword in hand, cheering on my men to victory, flinging fear to 
the winds. I would never be a coward ! 

Frank. I hope there will not be any war in your life or mine 
to test your courage. 

Howard. Still one may be a hero even in time of peace. The 
doctor who visits plague-stricken houses, risks contagion and dares 
his life every hour, is a hero. 

Frank. Tes — I should not care to be a doctor. 

Howard. The sailor who leaves home and friends to dare the 
stormy ocean, to ride over the swelling wave, is a hero. 

Frank. Yes—I shall respectfully decline being a sailor. 

Howard. (Contemptuously.) I declare, Frank, if I was a cow- 
ard I would keep it to myself. 

Frank. (Indifferently.) Would you? 

Howard. Yes, I would. "Why, all the boys are talking about it. 

Frank. About what ? 

Howard. Your — your — 

Frank. Oh, my cowardice ! 

Howard. Well, you know it did look like that, when you refused 
to fight George Bates last week, and you are bigger than he is, too ! 

Frank. Decidedly ! So I am a coward because I won't fight 
a smaller boy. Is that it ? 

Howard. Why, of course it is ! It is bad enough to be afraid 
of a boy your own size or bigger ; but to let a little fellow like 
George Bates scare you, did look queer. 

Frank. Yery queer. 

Howard. And you wouldn't come down in the woods to try 
Tom Harding's revolver. 



WHICH WAS THE HEBO ? 65 

Frank. Because I was afraid ? 

Howard, yell, all the boys said so. 

Frank. Be vol vers being a plaything of which Professor Davis 
entirely approves. 

Howard. Well, of course we had to try it on the sly, but none 
of us were afraid of it. 

Frank. Kor afraid of breaking the strictest rule of the school — a 
rule established for the protection of the scholars entirely. 

Howard. "What a set of milksops we would all grow up to be, 
if we knew nothing of the use of firearms. 

Frank. Certainly. By all means practice with cheap, ill-made 
revolvers and ignorant fingers, even if you do risk your own life 
and that of your companions. Indeed, I think a murder would be 
a grand commencement for a hero. 

Howard. A murder! 

Frank. Exactly. What else is it, if, through your disobedience, 
you shoot another boy ? I have told Tom that unless the revolver 
is out of the school to-night, I shall inform Professor Davis of its 
whereabouts to-morrow. 

Howard. You wouldn't be such a sneak as to tell ! - 

Frank. {Coolly.) Dreadful, isn't it? Perhaps if some of you 
had come home minus a finger or two, you might have wished I 
had told sooner. 

Howard. (Excitedly.) Well, I wouldn't be a coward and a 
sneak for anything ! 

Enter Gilbert, hurriedly. 

Gilbert. Oh, Frank ! Howard ! ISTero has broken his chain, and 
they think he is mad. 

Howard. Shut the door ! (Buns to shut it.) Where is he ? 

Gilbert. He is running all round the house, and nobody dares 
go near him. James is afraid he will go to the woods ! 

Frank. (Springing Wilis feet.) The woods! Why, all the little 
fellows are down there, nutting ! 

Gilbert. Yes, the whole primary class. 

Frank. Horrible! (Goes out, hurriedly.) 

Howard. Shut the door ! (Shuts door.) I've half a mind to 
lock it. Suppose Xero should get in here I (Trembling violently.) 
He is as big as a colt. 



6& WHICH WAS THE HERO ? 

Gilbert. But gentle as a lamb, generally. 

Howard. (Still trembling.) Who said he was mad? 

Gilbert. James. He says he snapped his chain, and rnshed 
into the honse with his tongue hanging ont and his month all frothy. 
I wonder if Professor Davis would scold, if we got Tom's revolver 
and shot him ? 

Howard. But it might go off and not hit him ! 

Gilbert. (Going to a window.) Where is Frank going? 

Howard. Frank ! He is hiding under the bed somewhere, I bet ! 
Why, he is afraid of his own shadow, much more of a mad dog ! 

Gilbert. But he is out here (looking from the window) in his 
shirt sleeves, and with the heaviest poker in the kitchen. He is 
going to the woods. No, he has turned round to — Oh, Howard ! 
Nero is rushing right at him ! He will tear him to pieces ! 

Howard. (Sinking, trembling, into chair.) Is he all alone? 

Gilbert. All alone ! He has struck Nero twice with the poker, 
but Nero has sprung on him ! Oh, see, Howard ! He is struggling 
with Nero, and calling to the children to keep back. All the little 
fellows are coming out of the woods. " Keep back !" Don't you 
hear him ? 

Howard. (Shuddering, and hiding his face.) Oh, it is dreadful ! 

Gilbert. The men are coming up from the farm. Hurrah ! 
They've got Nero now with a rope round his neck! Hurrah! 
(Gilbert runs out.) 

Howard. Oh, how deathly sick I feel ! I wonder if they have 
got Nero safely, and will kill him ? How could he break his chain? 
Professor Davis has no business to keep him, even if he does need 
a watch-dog. I am as cold as ice ! Who would have thought 
Frank would dare face a mad dog ! 

Enter Gilbert, supporting Frank, who has one arm bound up. 

Gilbert. Get a chair, Howard. 

Howard. (Pushing chair forward.) Oh, Frank, are you hurt? 

Frank. (Faintly.) It is nothing much. (Leans his head against 
Gilbert, who fans him with his handkerchief) But I was afraid 
Nero might get amongst the little fellows. 

Howard. Oh, Gilbert, he is fainting ! Was he bitten ? 

Gilbert. Yes, on the arm, and he marched right into the kitchen 
and put a hot poker on the place, himself. 



WHICH WAS THE HERO? 67 

Howard. Oh, Frank, can you ever forgive me for calling you a 
coward ? 

Frank. No harm done ! Better be called a coward than to be one. 

Gilbert. Here, Howard, hold his head while I go and see if the 
doctor is coming. (Howard takes Gilbert's place. Gilbert 
goes out.) 

Howard. Are you better ? 

Frank. Oh, Tin all right ! My arm aches some, and you may 
laugh at me if you choose, Howard ; I am faint with fright, now it 
is all over. I feel sick when I think of all those little boys, if that 
great dog had got to the woods. 

Howard. As he would have done, but for you. 

Frank. Yes, I thank my Heavenly Father that he let me hold 
him. 

Enter Gilbert. 

Gilbert. Oh, Howard, Frank, I have good news ! Nero is not 
mad. He was stung by some hornets and frantic with pain, but 
he is not mad, and Frank need not be afraid of hydrophobia. 

Howard. I don't believe Frank is afraid of anything., 

Frank. (Brightly.) Halloo! That's not the tune you were 
singing this morning. 

Gilbert. But Nero is to be shot ! Professor Davis says he will 
not have any more such risk. 

Frank. Poor Nero ! 

Howard. I am glad, for I am afraid of him now, if you are 
not. But I guess, Frank I won't brag any more about being heroic. 

Curtain. 



68 ASTONISHING THE NATIVES. 



ASTONISHING- THE NATIVES. 



(g h a i[ a o i e \ $ . 

Eloise Grand all — A recent Graduate of a Seminary. 
Hester Lorlng — Her intimate Friend. 
Susy — The Servant Girl. 

SCENE. — A Modern Sitting-room. Open piano, with music upon 
it. An aquarium, fernery, cabinet with drawers, stand of flow- 
ers, and a table, with a few books scattered upon it. Susy 
dusting the furniture. 

Susy. WeR, I do be kept busy, to be sure, now Miss Eliza— 
Oh, gracious ! I forgot — Miss Eloise has come back from the grand 
school where she got such a pile of learning. Why, the parson 
himself can't beat her on the big words ! And she's always 
a-going off with clompy boots and a big shade hat, a-digging for 
worms, and a-scooping fishes out of the creek, and catching bugs 
and butterflies in little nets ; and when she is at home dressed to 
kill! (Dusts the aquarium.) Here's her aquarium, all full of 
stones and shells and little bobbity bits of fishes. How they wrig- 
gle ! Poor things ! I think it's a shame to take them out of the 
cool, shady creek, and keep them in glass cases. 

Enter Eloise, very elaborately dressed. 

Eloise. Susan! 

Susy. Yes, Miss Eliz— Eloise ! 

Eloise. Does my skirt hang gracefully ? 

Susy. Beautifully, miss ! 

Eloise. Is the flounce on my overskirt looped in the proper 
manner 1 

Susy. It couldn't be better, miss. 

Eloise. (Walking slowly across stage.) Does my train follow 
my movement in a delicate curve ? 

Susy. (Looking bewildered.) I — think— it — does. 



ASTONISHING THE NATIVES. 69 

Eloise. Think ! Can't yon see f 

Susy. Yes, miss. It is splendid ! 

Eloise. How does the dress fit me ? 

Susy. Magnificent, miss ! 

Eloise. Does it not wrinkle on the shoulders ? 

Susy. Not a wrinkle as big as a hair anywhere about it, miss ! 
And all the crinkle-crankleums on it is lovely. I never saw such 
sweet silk ! 

Eloise. Is my collar straight ? 

Susy. Couldn't be straighter. 

Eloise. One might as well be buried at once, as to live in a 
house without a full-length mirror. I am quite resolved not to let 
papa have one moment's peace until he puts one in my room. I 
always feel half dressed, if I cannot see the sweep of my skirts or 
the fall of my cloak. 

Susy. Well, you're elegant to-day, miss ! Do you expect visitors, 
miss? 

Eloise. Miss Hester Loring is coming to see me. 

Susy. My ! won't you be glad to see her ? You was never apart 
before you went away last year, and I know she has been awfully 
lonesome since you left. (Aside.) But she won't dress up like 
that, I know, to see you. 

Eloise. Is my hah- all right at the back ? 

Susy. Lovely, miss. 

Eloise. (Sitting down.) Bring me a footstool. 

Susy. Yes, miss. (Brings footstool.) 

Eloise. Hand me a book from the table. 

Susy. "Which one, miss ? 

Eloise. Anyone. (Susy hands boolc.) You may go now, Susy. 
When Miss Hester comes, show her in here. 

Susy. Yes, miss. (Exit Susy.) 

Eloise. I wonder if my skirt is draped gracefully over the 
footstool, so as to show the rosette upon my new slippers ! Hes- 
ter is so primitive, and her education has been so shockingly 
deficient, that I consider it a positive duty to show her the advan- 
tages I have gained by a year in Mrs. Stickumup's Seminary. 
Indeed, I calculate that now I shall in every way — dress, deport- 
ment and accomplishments, astonish the natives. (Bell rings.) 
That must be Hester. (Appears absorbed in reading.) 



70 ASTONISHING THE NATIVES. 

Enter Hester, very quietly dressed. 

Hester. Oh, dear Eliza — (stops confused, as Eloise does not 
seem to see Iter.) Good morning ! 

Eloise. {Looking up.) Oh, pardon me ! I was so interested 
in this new work npon botany, I did not hear you enter. (Rising 
gracefully.) I am delighted to see you. 

Hester. I — why, Eliza, you don't seem to be a bit delighted. 
(Aside.) A year ago she would have kissed me twenty times, if we 
had been separated for one day. 

Eloise. Dear Hester, would you mind calling me Eloise ? Eliza 
is such a very common name. 

Hester. Not at all. Is it the fashion nowadays to change your 
name? 

Eloise. I know nothing about fashion, my dear friend. My 
mind is so absorbed in the pursuit of knowledge, that I care noth- 
ing for such frivolities as fashion demands of her votaries. 

Hester. Oh, I beg your pardon, I am sure ! But your dress— 

Eloise. A fancy of my dressmaker's. She knows I care noth- 
ing for such things, and exercises her own discretion. Let me take 
your hat and shawl. Tou have come to spend the day ? 

Hester. I did intend to do so, but perhaps you have renounced 
friendship, with other frivolities. (Aside.) She shall not see how 
much she wounds me by her coldness. 

Eloise. (Clasping her hands.) I renounce friendship! How 
little you know me. 

" Friendship above all ties doth bind the heart ; 
And faith in friendship is the noblest part !" 

I could not live without friendship ! (As if affected.) 

Hester. I did not mean to wound you. (Aside.) I had rather 
have one of her old warm kisses than all her protestations ! 

Eloise. (Removing Hester's hat and shawl.) Tou must stay 
all day. I have a thousand things to show you. 

Hester. Thanks ! I suppose you brought a great many new 
things from the city? Oh, you have an aquarium! (Goes to 
aquarium.) 

Eloise. Tes, a trifle to amuse leisure hours, when my brain 
wearies of study. That is a very fine specimen of the Dyticus 
Marginalise Tou recognize it, of course ? 



ASTOXISHIXG THE NATIVES. 71 

. Hester. It is difficult to tell one of the water beetles from 
another, they dart about so quickly. But I see you have a Hydropli- 
ilus piceous ! (Aside.) She will find two can play at that game. 

Eloise. (Aside.) Xow who would imagine she knew the 
Latin names for those horrid little beetles ! (Aloud.) Oh, I am 
so glad, dear Hester, that you share my enthusiasm for this fasci- 
nating pursuit. I spent the entire day yesterday at the creek. I 
obtained a Helophorus aquaticus and an Acilius sulcatus, but 
looked in Tain for a Cotymbetes. 

Hester. (Aside. ) It is too funny that Bob should have just 
taught me all the Latin names of the contents of an aquarium ! 
I'll just air a little of my learning. (Aloud, very gravely.) I think, 
my beloved Eloise, that we have ever been in sympathy in our 
pursuits. Pardon me, therefore, if I presume to criticise your aqua- 
rium. I find therein a deficiency of Algce, most necessary for the 
health of your aquatic pets. TTe can easily procure a supply, how- 
ever. Let me recommend, my charming friend, some of the Cla~ 
dophora Arcta, a little of the Enteromorplia, which is, however, 
so common, that I would use it sparingly, a few specimens of the 
Porphyra laciniata, oiUlva latissima, whichever you prefer. Both 
are effective. 

Eloise. (Aside.) I guess I will show her something else. 
(Aloud.) You are very kind, dear, to make any suggestion. This 
anemone is very rare : did you notice it ! 

Hester. I did. Tou must really come over and see my collec- 
tion. 

Eloise. Have you a Goniodoris nodosa ? 

Hester. Two, my love, and a perfect Gemellaria loricata. My 
Scrupocellaria scruposa has been very much admired. 

Eloise. I have a Patella pellucida — a very fine specimen. 

Hester. Indeed ! Have you an Aspidophorus Europeans ? 

Eloise. (Aside.) Xow isn't she provoking ! (Aloud.) Are you 
fond of ferns, Hester ? ( Going to fernery. ) 

Hester. I do not care to keep them in the house. They grow 
so luxuriantly near here that one can admire their beauty in every 
walk. 

Eloise. But mine are all English ferns. 

Hester. Indeed! (Examines ferns.) 

Eloise. I gave quite a small fortune for some of the specimens. 



72 ASTONISHING THE NATIVES. 

(Aside.) I will amaze her now. (Aloud, very rapidly, as if fearing 
interruption.) This one is the Asplenium adiantum nigrum, this 
the Lastica dilatata, this the Folystichum aculeatum, and this 
the Scolopendrium ; but the treasure of all is this lovely, lovely 
Polysticlium loncliites. 

Hester. (Coolly.) They are very pretty ; but I think our Amer- 
ican ferns are quite as graceful. 

Eloise. If you will excuse me a moment, I will find my port- 
folio of dried specimens to show you. (Aside.) I am sure my hair 
is coming down. (Exit Eloise.) 

Hester. A year ago she would have put her arm around my 
waist, and said, " Come, Hettie, to my room, and see my ferns !" 
Well, (sighing) I hope her affectations make her happy. 
Enter Susy. 

Susy. Oh, Miss Hettie, ain't our Miss Eliza got a heap o' learn- 
ing in that cemetery she's been to ? 

Hester. (Smiling.) It seems so, Susy. 

Susy. She studied up a whole pile o' furrin' talk about the 
fishes and the ferns yesterday. I was listening to her going it all 
over — all about the polly-stick-um and the goney on nosa and 
screw-pole in air, and screw-pole on nosa, and salt-cellar beetles ! 

Hester. Those are the Latin names, Susy, for very common 
little fishes and beetles. 

Susy. Do tell ! But Is'pect they must be, for she calls the soap 
a slaponoseous compound. 

Hester. Indeed! 

Susy. And how was I to know she wanted the bread, when she 
asked for flarinaceous food ? 

Hester. What is butter ? 

Susy. She ain't got to the butter yet. But the pickles are all 
con — con — 

Hester. Condiments ! 

Susy. Now, Miss Hettie, don't you go at it too, or Fll never be 
able to wait on the table. I'm so fiustercated now, I expect I'll 
give her red pepper for pudding-sauce, and sugar to put on her 
meat. 

Hester. (Laughing.) No fear of that ! Tou are far too handy ! 

Susy. But I came in to see if I was to put on a plate for you at 
dinner. 



ASTCXNTSBXNTG THE NATIVES. 73 

Hester. Yes, Susy, I shall stay to-day. (Exit Susy.) But I 
shall not repeat my visit very soon. The fun of fighting Miss Eloise 
with her own weapons sadly needs an audience ! If only Bob were 
here, now ! 

Enter Eloise. 

f Eloise. I find my portfolio is in one of my trunks at Aunt 
'Miriam's, where I promised to return in a few days. I am anx- 
ious to spend a little more time in the city, to add to my collection 
of shells. Are you fond of conchology ? 

Hester. Only to admire. I have not studied it. 

Eloise. It is most absorbing. (Opens cabinet drawer.) My 
collection is very limited, as you see ; but I have some rare speci- 
mens. 

Hester. (Pointing. ) That is a pretty Troclius ziziphinus. 

Eloise. But not so fine as this Littorina Mttoralis. 

Hester. Still, periwinkles are so common. 

Eloise. (Pettishly.) I assure you there id nothing common in 
the collection. 

Hester. I had no intention of offending you, Eliza. 

Eloise. I wish you would call me Eloise. 

Hester. Pardon me! (Going to piano.) Have you brought 
home any new music f 

Eloise. (Aside.) Xow I will astonish her. (Aloud.) Oh, you 
know I adore music ! Shall I play for you the last trifle I learned ? 

Hester. I shall be delighted to hear it. (Eloise plays a very 
showy, sky-rocketty piece of instrumental music, often blundering, 
often striking a false note. It should be very short, but played 
with all the affected airs and graces possible to assume.) 

Eloise. Do you not admire that ? 

Hester. It appears to be difficult. 

Eloise. Xot at all ; a mere trifle ! 

Hester. (Aside.) It was a pity, then, not to learn to play it cor- 
rectly. 

Eloise. "Will you not sing for me! I believe you do sing ? 

Hester. You have heard me hundreds of times, and I have 
learned nothing very new. 

Eloise. But do sing ! 

Hester. Certainly, if you wish it. (Hester sings some simple 



74 ASTONISHING THE NATIVES. 

ballad, well, but without any affectations. The contrast in the 
musical performances must be very marked.) 

Eloise. Thanks ! But you really should learn something less 
old-fashioned. 
Hester. Such as this. (Sings a brilliant variation.) 
Eloise. (Amazed.) ^Vv^ere did you learn that? 
Hester. Of Professor Squallum, of course. But I do not care 
to sing in that style, as I cannot rival professional performers, and 
prefer to confine my efforts to what pleases my friends. 

Eloise. (Coming forward.) This is very fatiguing weather. 
(Sinks into a chair.) 
Hester. Yery! (Sinks into another chair.) 
Eloise. The heat quite prostrates a delicate person. (Fans 
herself languidly.) 

Hester. It is almost insupportable ! (Fans herself with the same 
air of languor.) 

Eloise. I think it is quite an error to suppose country air cooler 
than that in the city. The sea breezes are the only real relief. 

Hester. Or mountain air. I sigh for the summit of Mont 
Blanc ! 
Eloise. (Very sentimentally.) 

" I love to stand on some high beetling rock, 

Or dusky brow of savage promontory, 

Watching the waves, with all their white crests dancing, 

Come, like thick plum'd squadrons, to the shore 

Gallantly bounding !" 

Hester. (Still more sentimentally.) I love the mountain air ! 

i( The mountain wind ! most spiritual of all 

The wide earth knows — when, in the sultry time, 

He stoops him from his vast cerulean hall, 

He seems the breath of a celestial clime, 

As if from heaven's wide open gates did flow 

Health and refreshment on the world below \" 

Eloise. (Aside.) I don't seem to have made much impression 

upon her. (Aloud.) Are you still fond of long walks, Hester If You 

were untiring last year. 

Hester. Last year ! Oh, one really cannot be expected to retain 
any favorite taste for such an age t 
Eloise. How do you amuse yourself in this dull little place ? 



ASTONISHING THE NATIVES. 75 

Hester. ¥e continue to exist, with lawn tennis, croquet, out- 
door concerts, charades, tableaux, music and picnics. All vulgar 
pursuits to a mind of such exquisite refinement as yours, I do not 
doubt ; but the aborigines of these parts manage to live ! 

Eloise. I am weary of all such trifling pursuits, and pass my 
time in study. As Cicero says : " A?iimce cultus quasi quidam 
humanitatis cibus."* 

Hester. And yet Seneca remarks : " Inter dum et insanire ju- 
cundum esV\ 

Eloise. {Suddenly springing up.) A truce, Hetty ! 

Hester. (Also springing up.) With all my heart, dear Lida ! 

Eloise. (Embracing Hester.) I think I have played the fool 
quite enough for one day. TTe will go to my room and you shall 
tell me all your year's experiences. You have kept pace with me, 
at any rate. 

Hester. (Laughing.) Well, I understood you promised, upon 
your return home, to astonish the natives, and being one of them — 
(Eloise kisses her. ) 

Eloise. iSTot another word. Since we have become such good 
Latin scholars, let me remark, " Amicum perdere est damnorum 
maximum."* 

Hester. I was very much afraid I was losing my old friend, 
but I resolved to make a bold stand. 

Eloise. And you have fairly beaten her with her own weapons. 

Hester. There is one old Italian proverb that says, " Al finir 
del gioco, si vede che ha guadagnato." 

Eloise. Translate, my dear, for the benefit of the country 
members. 

Hester. At the end of the game one may see who has won. 
(TJiey go out arm in arm.) 

Curtain. 

* Cultivation is as necessary to the mind as food is to the body. 
t It is sometimes pleasant to play the fool. 
* To lose a friend is the greatest of losses. 



76 THE CEITICS. 



THE CEITICS. 



(|5 h a q a c t e q $ ♦ 

GEORGE. FRANK. 

Herbert. "Wilfred. 

Lawrence. James. 

SCE!N*B. — A Stage, with curtains draped at each side. Herbert 
is seated in the audience, left of foreground ; Lawrence in the 
audience, right of foreground ; Frank in the audience, in one 
of the rear seats. Wilfred on the stage, left, concealed by 
curtain, James on the stage, right, concealed by curiam. 

To be effective, this dialogue must be rehearsed until every boy is prompt 
and perfect in Ms part, as any hesitation will ruin the fun. 

George. (Advancing to front of stage, and speaking very slowly 
and dramatically.) "On Linden, when the sun was low " — 

Herbert. Oh, oh! 

George. (Looking indignantly at Herbert.) You had better 
go home, boy ! 

Lawrence. Oh, come, speak your piece. Fever mind him. 

George. " On Linden, when the snn was low " — 

Herbert. Ton said that once ! 

George. Really, if I am to be constantly interrupted in this 
silly manner— 

Lawrence. Oh, go ahead ! ¥e did not come here to hear you 
two quarrel. Go on about the sun. 

Herbert. Tes. (Imitating.) " On Linden, when the sun was 
high!" 

Lawrence. Come, you shut up ! 

Frank. (Gruffly.) Can't you boys in the front there he quiet? 
We'd like to hear the recitation. 

George. (As if confused.) 

"On Linden, when the sun was low, 
All bloodless lay the untrodden snow/' 



THE CRITICS. 77 

Herbert. You'd better get some more of your voice up from 
down cellar ! 

George. (Loftily.) Perhaps you can say it better? 

Herbert. Perhaps ? Of course I can ! 

George. (Bowing with great ceremony.) You had better take 
my place then. 

Herbert. All right ! (Gets upon stage.) Now I will show you 
some elocution ! (In a very high voice.) 

" On Linden, when the sun was low." 

Lawrence. Punch and Judy ! How are you, Mr. Punch ? 

Herbert. (Angrily.) Who asked your opinion? 

Lawrence. Oh, if it comes to that, who asked yours ? 

Frank. This is a pretty way for you boys to go on, now, isn't 
it? Sit down, and don't interrupt George again. 

Herbert. Just as you say. (Sits down on stage.) 

George. (Coming forward.) " On Linden, when the sun was 
low"— 

Herbert. That's four times we've had that line ! 

George. (Pettishly.) And you'll have it fifty, if you won't allow 
me to begin ! 

Herbert. Oh, you're first rate at beginning; the trouble seems 
to be to go on ! 

Lawrence. You'll find yourself put out if you do not keep still. 

Herbert. I won't be half as much put out as you appear to be, 
if you send me home ! 

Frank. I'll put you both out, if you don't keep quiet. 

George. I might as well retire. I hope, ladies and gentlemen, 
you will not attribute this most unwarrantable confusion to me. 

Lawrence. Oh, go ahead ! If he bothers you again, we'll just 
give him a standing seat outside. 

George. (Clearing his throat.) On Linden — ahem. 

Herbert. He don't know it ! 

George. " On Liuden, when the sun was low" — 

Herbert. That's n^ve times. 

George. " All bloodless lay th' untrodden snow, 
And dark as winter was the flow 
Of Iser, rolling rapidly. 

But Linden"— (hesitates.) 



78 THE CEITICS. 

Herbert. I knew he didn't know it. 

George. (Aside.) Why don't you prompt? 

Wilfred. ( Concealed. ) Saw another sight ! 

Herbert. That's it. G-o ahead now ! Saw another sight. 

George. " But Linden saw another sight, 

"When the drum beat, at dead of night, 
Commanding"— (Hesitates.) 

"Wilfred. (In a loud whisper.) Fires of death ! 

George. " Commanding fires of death to— " (Hesitates.) 

Wilfred. (In a loud whisper.) Light! 

George. " Fires of death to light." 

Herbert. (Imitating.) Fires of death to— (whispers) light. 
(Aloud.) Fires of death to light. Don't you think the fellow with 
the book, behind there, had better speak the piece ? 

George. I would like to hear anybody recite with such pro- 
voking interruptions. It is just because you are too stupid to 
learn a piece yourself that you are trying to spoil mine ! 

Herbert. I can recite " Hohenlinden ;; anyhow ! I knew that 
old stuff in my cradle. 

George. Kecite it, then ! I'll not speak another word to-night ! 
(Goes to back of stage sulkily.) 

Herbert. ( With a low bow.) Ladies and gentlemen, owing to 
the extreme indisposition of the boy whose name is upon the pro- 
gramme— 

George I am as well as you are ! 

Herbert. Just so, but you said you were indisposed to speak. 

Lawrence. If you climbed up there to make wretched puns, 
you had better climb down again. 

Herbert. In a few minutes, my dear friend, I will avail myselt 
of your polite suggestion, but not until I have taken George's place 
for a sufficient length of time to show this aristocratic and intelli- 
gent audience how "Hohenlinden" should be recited. 

Frank. Puppy ! 

Herbert. Pardon me ! Did some gentleman in the rear call 
you, Lawrence? 

George. I thought you were going to recite " Hohenlinden " ! 

Lawrence. He can't ! He don't know how ! 

Herbert. That is slander ! (Strikes an attitude.) 
" On Linden, when the sun was low " — 



THE CHITICS. 79 

Lawrence. I thought you mentioned that we had already heard 
that line five times ! 

Herbert. You dry up, will you ! 

" On Linden, when the sun was low " — 

Lawrence. Is that seven times or eight % I've lost the 
count. 

Frank. Can't you boys up there behave yourselves % Tou are 
a disgrace to the Institution ! 

Herbert. Tou're pretty safe, back there. Come up here and 
say that ! 

Frank. I flatter myself I know better than to encourage the 
disturbance you are making. 

Lawrence. It is too bad. Go ahead, one of you. Til be as 
silent as a gravestone ! 

Herbert. ( Coming to front of stage. ) 

" On Linden, when the sun was low, 
All stainless— " 

George. Hadn't you better learn the words ? 

Herbert. I had the words right. 

George. You didn't! {Emphatically.) 

" All bloodless lay the untrodden snow." 

Herbert. It is all the same, anyhow. 

George. A pretty mess you'd make of poetry ! 

Herbert. "All bloodless, then, lay the untrodden snow, 
And dark as winter was the flow 
Of— of— " {Aside.) "Why don't you prompt ? 

"Wilfred. {Coming forward ivith a booh.) I didn't undertake to 
prompt you. 

Lawrence. Of course not. He was so perfect that he did not 
secure the services of a prompter. "Wiry, he knew that old stuff in 
his cradle ! 

Wilfred. I think you both had better have stayed at home, for 
my part. I won't prompt either of you. 

Lawrence. JSTobody asked you. If I didn't know my part well 
enough to speak it alone, I would not attempt it. 

Herbert. Oh, you are very smart, ain't you ? Come up here 
and say it. 

Lawrence. If I do, I won't growl like a bear or squeak like a 
Punch and Judy show. 



80 THE CRITICS. 

George. Recitations ought to be made in a deep voice, if the 
subject is solemn. 

Herbert. Since you are so very fine an elocutionist, suppose 
you just step up here to show us how "Hoherilinden" should be 
read. 

"Wilfred. Really, these proceedings are very irregular. 

Frank. Irregular ! They are perfectly outrageous. 

Herbert. Tou can keep your opinion until it is called for. 

Frank. As you did yours. 

Lawrence. Had you there, Master Herbert ! 

George. I think we might as well all retire for the next recita- 
tion. I don't suppose we amuse the audience very much. 

Herbert. Hold on I "We want that super- excellent recitation 
of " Hohenlinden," by Professor Lawrence. 

Lawrence. (Climbing on stage.) If the audience will kindly ex- 
cuse a total want of preparation — 

Frank. "We'll excuse anything if you will go on with the per- 
formances. 

Lawrence. And overlook the deficiencies arising from an ab- 
sence of rehearsals — 

Herbert. Never mind any more apology. 

Lawrence. And take into consideration my extreme youth and 
constitutional bashfulness — 

George. Bashfulness! 

Lawrence. And kindly allow for the impromptu character of 
the recitation, I will endeavor to recite " Hohenlinden !" (Becites 
with most exaggerated gesture and strained voice.) 
" On Linden, when the sun was low, 
All bloodless lay th' untrodden snow, 
And dark as winter was the flow 
Of Iser, rolling rapidly." 

George. (To Herbert.) He commenced at the climax ! 

Herbert. Tes ! He will fly to pieces if he piles any more agony 
on that. 

Lawrence. "By torch and trumpet " — 

George. Hold on ! That's the third verse ! 

Lawrence. Oh, yes ! I wish, however, you" would not bother 
me. It breaks the thread of inspiration ! 

Herbert. He'll break a blood-vessel if he's not careful! 



THE CRITICS. 81 

Frank. Are yon at it again ? 

Lawrence. Ton needn't interfere, if we are ! (Reciting as he- 
fore.) " Bnt Linden saw another sight, 

When the drnm beat, at dead of night, 
Commanding fires of death to light 
(Drops voice suddenly.) 

The darkness of her scenery/' 

Herbert. "Oh, what a fall was there, my countrymen!" 

George. He couldn't get np any higher, and he had to do some- 
thing! 

Lawrence. (Contemptuously.) Ton boys know nothing what- 
ever of dramatic effect ! Who ever heard any great speaker keep 
his voice at one pitch all the time ! 

George. Who ever heard any great speaker start at the pitch of 
his lungs ? 

Wilfred. It is my opinion yon don't any of yon know what yon 
are talking about. 

George. (Sarcastically.) Oh, here is another full-blown critic ! 

Wilfred. I have no desire to interrupt or criticise yon; but the 
absurd way in which you are all acting calls forth remark from 
anybody. 

George. Who commenced the fuss ? I am sure I was doing 
exactly what was on the programme for me to do. 

Wilfred. (Looking at programme.) Here! Tou are down to 
recite " Hohenlinden ' ' ! 

George. Well, it is not my fault that I did not recite " Hohen- 
den." I came here ready — 

Herbert. Ready ! Why, you bungled over the very first verse 
— had to be prompted ! 

George. Anybody would get confused, badgered as I was. 

Frank. I'm going out to ask for my money at the door. We 
came here to listen to recitations and music, and we have had noth- 
ing but a schoolboy squabble, as uninteresting as it is disgraceful ! 

Lawrence. Tour growling has been as much of a disturbance 
as anything ! 

Herbert. Tes, and you're very safe back there making a fuss ! 

Wilfred. Come, come ! We've had about enough of this for 
one evening. Tou boys get down, and see if you can't keep your 
mouths shut while George recites ''Hohenlinden." 



82 THE EXPECTED VISITORS. 

George. Oh, we've had about enough " Hohenlinden" for one 
evening. 

Wilfred. But it is on the programme. 

Herbert. I'll get down, and I'll not speak a word, even if 
George gets his voice down into his boots. ( Gets down and resumes 
his place in the audience.) 

Lawrence. I won't interrupt you; you maybe sure of that. 
(Gets down and resumes seat.) 

"Wilfred. I will prompt you, if all this disturbance has confused 
you. (Retires behind curtain.) 

Frank. I do hope now we are to have a little order and quiet ! 

Herbert. We will if you'll stop growling ! 

Lawrence. And you'll dry up ! 

George. (Coming forward.) 

11 On Linden, when the sun was low — " 

Enter James. 

James. Professor Johnson* sent me to say that the time for 
" Hohenlinden" is up, and they are waiting for the next recitation ! 

Curtain. 



THE EXPECTED YISITOES. 



$ .h * r a'o . t * q * • 

Delia. Bessie. 

Sadie. Cornelia. 

Nettie. Evangeline. 

SCENE. — A Prettily-furnished Sitting-room, with muslin cur- 
tains, matting and summer surroundings, as if at a country- 
seat. Sadie arranging some flowers in a vase ; Bessie at the 
window, draping the curtains. 

Bessie. What a fuss Delia makes about this visit ! After all, 
Cornelia and Evangeline Stuart are only girls like ourselves. 

* Name the Principal of the schooL 



THE EXPECTED VISITORS. 83 

Sadie. But they were very polite to Delia when she was in the 
city last winter. 

Bessie. I know that; bnt when we are receiving our own 

friends, and even papa's and mamma's, without any fuss, I can't 

see why the whole house should be turned upside down for two 

girls. 

Enter Nettie, laughing. 

Nettie. Oh, girls, such fun ! 

Bessie. "WTiat is it ? 

Nettie. I went into the dressing-room, and the door leading into 
mamma's room was open. Of course I don't listen ; but I couldn't 
help hearing Delia. (Laughs.) 

Sadie. Does she want mamma to send to Paris for a new cap 
before these wonderful guests of hers come ? 

Nettie. No ; but she asked mamma's permission to give us a 
few hints about deportment. 

Bessie. As if we did not know how to behave ourselves ! 

Sadie. (Indignantly.) I think mamma taught us to " make our 
manners," as the old nurses say, a long time ago ! 

Bessie. "What did mamma say ? 

Nettie. She said she had no objection, if we had none. 

Sadie. "Well, I have ! I have no desire to be such a piece of 
affectation as Delia has been since she came home from Aunt 
May's. 

Bessie. Oh, never mind, Sadie ! Don't let her know we care ! 
As Nettie says, it will be fun to see how far she will go ! 

Sadie. Oh, very well ! 

Enter Delia. 

Delia. ( Whose manner and voice must be very affected and ar- 
tificial.) Oh, my dear sisters, I am so glad you are all here ! 

Sadie. (Drily.) It must be a source of deep delight. It is about 
an hour since we were all at the breakfast-table ! 

Bessie. Make some allowance for Delia's absence for six weeks, 
which has doubtless increased her sisterly affection ! 

Delia. (Aside.) Are they making fun of me? No, they are all 
as grave as owls ! (Aloud.) Mamma told me I might give you a 
few hints about city etiquette, before my friends come. 

Nettie. ( Very gravely. ) Tou are exceedingly kind ! 

Bessie. (Very gravely.) It will be an inestimable advantage to 



84 THE EXPECTED VISITORS. 

such rustics as we are, to have the benefit of your experience and 
observation. 

Sadie. {Very gravely.) As you expect your Mends very early, 
there seems to be no time to lose. 

Delia, {Aside.) I thought they would be vexed, but they prob- 
ably see their own deficiencies since I returned. {Aloud.) You 
know, girls, the Stuarts move in the very best society, and they 
are accustomed to meet only refined people. {During the entire 
scene the faces of Nettie, Bessie and Sadie must be grave to so- 
lemnity, and they must appear to give scrupulous attention to 
Delia, and to be really trying to follow her directions.) 

Bessie. We understand ! 

Sadie. You don't want us to wipe our fingers on the table- 
cloth. 

Nettie. Or pick our teeth with the forks ! 

Bessie. Or tilt our chairs on two legs ! 

Delia. Of course I am not afraid of your doing anything rude ! 

Bessie. Oh, we thought that was the trouble ! 

Delia. It was only some little points. 

Sadie. Such as — 

Delia. "Well, you know you all have a fashion of rushing out 
to the porch and welcoming people as if— as if— 

Nettie. We were glad to see them ! 

Sadie. But cordial welcoming of guests may not be the fashion. 

Delia. If you will let me receive them at the door, and bring 
them in here, I will introduce you each in turn, and then if you 
will each say something different — you, Bessie, say : I am pleased 
to welcome you to Bay Eidge ! 

Bessie. {MaMng a very stiff, ceremonious bow. ) I am pleased 
to welcome you to Bay Bidge ! 

Delia. And you, Nettie, might say : You have had a lovely day 
for a drive. 

Nettie. {In a simpering voice.) You have had a lovely day for 
your ride ! 

Delia. Drive— they will not come on horseback. 

Nettie. Oh, I will remember. 

Delia. And Sadie ? 

Sadie. {Imitating Bessie.) I will say : We shall be most truly 
rejoiced to see you drive home again. 



THE EXPECTED VISITORS. 85 

Delia. (Piteously.) Now, Sadie ! 

Sadie. Oh, you are to tell us exactly what to say ! 

Delia. Won't you say : We have looked forward with great 
pleasure to the prospect of this visit 1 

Sadie. Certainly. {Very primly.) We have looked forward with 
great pleasure to the prospect of this visit. 

Delia. And, girls, would you mind sinking into your seats 
gracefully f Tou all bounce so ! 

Bessie. {Rising.) This way? {Sloivly sinks into a chair, holding 
out her skirts daintily.) 

Delia. Tes ! I am sure that is more graceful than just bump- 
ing down anyhow. 

Nettie. Let me try. {Spreads her skirts and sinks down lan- 
guidly, as if fainting.) 

Sadie. Something in this style ? {Imitates Bessie, out very stiffly, 
her elboivs pointing out and all her fingers straight.) 

Delia. And would you mind calling me Cordelia, just for to- 
day? 

Sadie. Certainly ; anything to oblige, Cordelia ! I believe my 
baptismal appellation is Sarah. 

Bessie. And mine Elizabeth. 

Delia. Nettie has the sweetest name, Antoinette. And the 
Stuart girls have lovely names, Evangeline and Cornelia. 

Sadie. I think, my dear sisters, as Cordelia has made so elabo- 
rate a toilette, we had better follow her example. 

Bessie. {Jumping up.) Oh, yes ! 

Sadie. Gently, Elizabeth. Don't bounce, my beloved sister! 
Sail gracefully from the apartment, as I do. (Sadie walks with 
an exaggeration of languid grace to the door, Nettie and Bessie 
following her with exact imitation of her movements. The Girls 
must all wear pretty summer dresses, except Delia, who should wear 
a very showy dress, much too fine for a morning in the country. 
When Bessie, Nettie and Sadie return, they must have added 
oows of ribbon, jewelry, any finery available, to their dresses, 
but in absurd profusion. Wreaths of artificial flowers have a 
good effect, or any other finery entirely inappropriate to the time 
and occasion.) 

Delia. There ! Mamma said they would laugh at me ! Now I 
am sure they do appreciate the improvement in my deportment, 



»b THE EXPECTED VISITORS. 

and are anxious to become lady-like and graceful. They are rather 
stiff, I must confess; but one cannot effect too much at once. 
{Bell rings.) Oh, there are the Stuart girls ! (Exit Delia.) 

Bessie. {Outside.) Shall we appear singly or in force ? 

Sadie. {Outside.) Singly. 

Enter Delia, with Cornelia and Evangeline, who are dressed 

with elegant simplicity, without any jewelry or finery of any 

hind. 

Delia. {Affectedly.) It is so very kind of you to come to this 
dull place ! 

Evangeline. {Cordially.) Oh, we enjoy a day in the country 
above all things — don't we, Neal ? 

Cornelia. {Laughing.) Tou would not know Eva, Delia, at 
our country-seat. She is a perfect tomboy. 

Evangeline. I hope I am not quite a savage ; but it is so de* 
lightful to move and act with perfect freedom, to dress in easy gar- 
ments, and thoroughly enjoy Nature. 

Enter Bessie, fa nning herself languidly with an enormous fan. 

Delia. {Aside.) Oh, what did possess Bessie to put on that 
wreath! Aloud.) Miss Stuart, my sister, Elizabeth — Miss Evan- 
geline Stuart, Elizabeth. 

Bessie. {Very stiffly.) I am pleased to welcome you to Bay 
Kidge, Miss Stuart, and Miss Evangeline Stuart. 

Evangeline. You are very kind ! {Aside.) I wonder if she is 
insane ! 

Cornelia. Thank you! {Aside.) "What a queer-acting girl ! 
(Bessie sinks into a chair, still fanning herself) 

Delia. {Aside to Bessie.) I do believe you mean to mortify me. 

Bessie. {Aside to Delia. ) Why, I thought I was doing exactly 
as you asked me ! (Cornelia and Evangeline stand right of 
foreground, as if embarrassed. Delia centre of stage, confused* 
All stiff, and as if doubtful what to do.) 

Cornelia. {Aside to Evangeline.) Did you ever hear she had 
a crazy sister ? 

Evangeline. Never ! Oh, there are two ! 
Enter Sadie, smelling at a vinaigrette, and walking stiffly. 

Delia. {Aside.) Oh, this is dreadful ! {Aloud.) My sister Sarah 
—Miss Stuart, Miss Evangeline Stuart. 



THE EXPECTED VISITORS. 87 

Sadie. {With a profound courtesy.) We have looked forward 
with great pleasure to the prospect of this visit, Miss Stuart, and 
Miss Evangeline Stuart. 

Evangeline. (Nervously.) Thank you ! (Aside to Cornelia.) 
I wish we had not come, Neal. (Sadie sinks into a chair, smell- 
ing the vinaigrette , while Bessie continues to use her fan.) 

Delia. Would you not like to go up-stairs and take off your 
hats? 

Cornelia. Thank you! I— (Aside.) Oh, if we had only kept 
the carriage ! 

Enter Xettie, with an exceedingly small fan, ivhich she uses very 
slowly and with a great sweep of her arm. 

Evangeline. Oh, Xeal, I am afraid of them. They can't be 
right in their minds ! 

Delia. My sister Antoinette— Miss Stuart, Miss Evangeline 
Stuart. 

Xettie. (With great ceremony .) Much pleased to meet you, 
Miss Stuart. I hope you enjoyed your drive from the city, Miss 
Evangeline Stuart. 

Evangeline. Yery much, thank you ! (Xettie seats herself and 
sits very stiffly. ) 

Delia. (Aside.) I wish I had let them alone. (Aloud.) Was it 
very warm driving ? 

Cornelia. JSTot uncomfortably ! 

Delia. Warm weather is so oppressive. 

Evangeline. But this has been a delightful summer, I think ! 

Delia. Yery. (Solemn pause.) Are you fond of music ? 

Evangeline. Yery. 

Delia. Do you play croquet? 

Cornelia, Sometimes. 

Delia. (Aside to Bessie.) Why don't you say something? 

Bessie. (Aside to Delia.) You didn't teach us any more, you 
know ! 

Delia. (Bising.) Do come up-stairs and take off your hats. 

Cornelia. Thanks ! (Exeunt Delia, Cornelia and Evan- 
geline.) 

Bessie. Oh ! (laughing violently.) I couldn't have kept a straight 
face two minutes longer. 



88 THE EXPECTED VISITORS. 

Nettie. {Laughing.) Poor Cordelia ! 

Sadie. And the poor Stuarts. I think they were half afraid of us. 

Bessie. They look like sweet, unaffected girls. 

Nettie. None of Delia's absurd airs ! 

Sadie. And no finery. (Talcing off boivs, flowers and jewelry.) 
I'll run up and join them. I can drop all this stuff in my room as 
I pass. 

Nettie. I will tell Betty to hurry luncheon a little, for it is a 
long drive. (Exit Nettie. ) 

Sadie. I guess Delia has had enough airs for one day. (Exit 
Sadie,) 

Bessie. There will have to be some sort of explanation ! I don't 
know, though — perhaps they won't recognize us minus all our finery 
and affectations. 

Enter Nettie and Sadie, divested of all their finery. 

Nettie. Oh, Bessie, Delia is furious ! She says we behaved 
ridiculously, and exaggerated her instructions on purpose to mor- 
tify her. She says she won't come back among us, and that we 
must shift for ourselves without her. 

Bessie. "Well, we can do that. "We will rather imitate our 
visitors, and behave naturally, as they do. I will run and get rid 
of my trumpery, and then bring our visitors down with me. (Exit 
Bessie.) 

Sadie. It certainly is rather embarrassing, but it serves Delia 
right. 

Nettie. Mortify her, indeed ! She ought not to have assumed 
any superiority over us. I am sorry for her, but pride is apt to have 
a fall. 

Enter Bessie, without her finery, having one of her visitors on 
each arm. Sadie and Nettie hasten to meet and shake hands 
with Cornelia and Evangeline. 

Cornelia. "Why, this is as it should be ! "What was the matter 
with you when we arrived ? Tou all appeared as if you were pre- 
paring a high comedy. 

Nettie. Indeed we were ! Delia thought that our simple man- 
ners would entirely shock high-toned city folks, and — But how 
absurd it must have appeared ! (Laughs.) 



A NIGHTMARE OF INDIA. 89 

Bessie. Come, now — as the ice is so successfully broken, what 
do you say to a game of croquet? (To Cornelia.) Or perhaps 
you would prefer to rest awhile after your drive? (Bell rings.) 
Ah ! there is the bell for luncheon; let's all go, and then we can 
arrange for our amusements afterwards. (As tliey all move off, 
the curtain falls.) 



A NIGHTMARE OF INDIA. 



(g h a H a c t s q $ ♦ 

Karl — Who has recently been in India. 

John — Who has remained at home. 

Jack — A Chimpanzee Monkey. 

Eoyal Bengal Tiger. 

Lion. 

Khinoceros. 

Elephant.— (Only a head.) 

SCE^TE. — A Sitting-room. Centre of "background a wide lounge, 
with pillows and a high back. Behind this a platform, a little 
lower than the back of the lounge. Between lounge and platform 
a black curtain, that can be raised and lowered very quickly. It 
falls, hiding the platform, when scene opens. 

[The introduction of the Animals may at first seem an insurmountable dif- 
ficulty ; but a little ingenuity and patience only are needed to conquer it. The 
more absurd and grotesque the imitations are, the better ; and robes of fur, 
pasteboard heads, tails of mamma's fur boas, a boy's arm for an elephant's 
trunk, and some rehearsals, are all that are needed. The boy taking- the part 
of Jack had better have a complete costume, easily hired, or made of rough 
brown cloth, with a monkey mask.] 

Karl and John discovered, seated, as if conversing. 

John. "Why, my dear fellow, Gordon Cummings must have been 
a mere baby, compared to you ! 
Earl. Oh, I have told you very little ! 



90 A NIGHTMARE OF INDIA. 

John. But a lion — an actual roaring lion — conquered alone, with- 
out arms ! 

Karl. Tou see, I never anticipated meeting him, and left my 
rifle under a tree, where I had been sleeping. 

John. And you strangled him with your hands alone ? 

Karl. Pooh ! "Why will you consider that such an astounding 
feat? 

John. I never heard anything so amazing in my life ! It quite 
takes my breath away. 

Karl. A mere nothing ! But it was vexatious to lose my rifle, 
which must have been stolen whilst I was fighting the king of the 
forest. 

John. Tou say you have his head ? 

Karl. No, I did have it; but my uncle, in Calcutta, insisted 
upon retaining it. 

John. A very natural desire on his part. But you must have 
many other curiosities. 

Karl. A great variety. I will present to you the tusks^of a 
wild elephant I trapped and killed. 

John. Oh, thank you ! I shall value them highly. 

Karl. I suppose you never witnessed a tiger hunt ? 

John. Well, no. I have had no experience in that way, I confess. 

Karl. That really is exciting. The last one in which I took 
part, I forbade the natives to fire. I was anxious to kill the mon- 
ster with my own hand, and I had a tough fight, I assure you. 
Again and again I fired ; but the tiger clung to Too too, the ele- 
phant, until he mounted to the head, where the mahout (the 
driver) was seated, and tore the faithful fellow badly, before I 
succeeded in dispatching him with my hunting-knife. 

John. Dispatching the mahout ? 

Karl. No, no ! the tiger ! I have his skin in my trunk ! 

John. I should like to see that ! 

Karl. Certainly ! My large trunks are still in the city — will be 
sent on here. You never hunted the rhinoceros, I think you told 
me? 

John. (Drily.) Well, no ! They do not frequent the vicinity of 
Toodleville. 

Karl. True ! true ! I am such a cosmopolitan that I forget 
localities. You really should hunt a rhinoceros. 



A NIGHTMARE OF INDIA. 91 

John. I will at the first opportunity that offers itself. 

Karl. Poor Tootoo — we were obliged to shoot hini after the tiger 
hunt ! He was so wounded; it was a cruelty to let his suffering be 
prolonged. I felt his loss very keenly, as he was my pet elephant. 
But my greatest pet was Jack, a Chimpanzee that I caught my- 
self and tamed perfectly. I wished to bring him home, but was 
assured that the climate would kill him ; so I most reluctantly left 
him in Calcutta ! 

John. {Rising.) I should like to sit here all night to hear your 
adventures ; but it is getting late. Will you come up-stair-s % 

Karl. Not just yet. I will soon follow you. 

John. G-ood-night, then ! 

Karl. Good-night! {Exit John.) 

Karl. {Moves about the room restlessly.) I cannot think what 
makes me feel so exceedingly uncomfortable ! I didn't eat but two 
plates of lobster salad, and three saucers of peaches and cream, and 
a slice of plum-cake, and a few raisins. To be sure, there was the 
cheese and coffee and hot cakes ; but nothing to make anybody feel 
as if he had been eating cobble-stones, as I do. Til he down here 
a little while. {Lies down on lounge.) This is very comfortable 
— very ! I'll have a tiger-skin covering for this, {yawns) and some 
softer pillows, {very drowsily) and it will not make a bad bed, on 
a pinch — {sleepily) better than — a— hammock {yawning) in— a 
bung — a— low — much better. {Sleeps. After a moment moves 
restlessly, muttering, and turns over to lie flat upon his back. When 
speaking afterwards must speak as if choked and in a nightmare. 
Curtain behind lounge draws up, and shows a jungle, either a paint- 
ed scene or a few tall plants in pots. The Chimpanzee monkey 
comes forward, chattering, and leans over Karl.) Go away! 
Mercy on me ! Who are you ? 

Chimpanzee. I am Jack ! I've heard of your great hunting ex- 
peditions, and I have come {in a terrible voice) to avenge my 
friends of the jungle ! 

Karl. G-o away ! Monkeys don't talk ! You're a fraud. 

Chimpanzee. Don't talk ! You'll find we all talk. {Leans over 
Karl, chattering and grinning.) 

Karl. {Moving restlessly.) I don't know what you mean. "Who's 
Jack? 

Chimpanzee. The dear little pet you left in Calcutta. But 



92 A NIGHTMARE OF INDIA. 

(jumps over lounge to floor) you shall see the rest of your friends 
from India. (A great growling behind the scenes.) 

Enter the Bengal Tiger, lashing his tail and roaring. 

Karl. Dear me ! "Who can this be ? 

Tiger. (In a hollow voice.) You don't know me! I am the 
ghost of the tiger you murdered in India. I have come to look 
upon the mighty warrior who conquered the prince of the jungle. 
(Boars.) Before I go I'll crunch your head in my jaws. 

Karl. (Trying to get up.) I'll not stay here ! 

Chimpanzee. (Sitting on lounge, but appearing to sit upon Karl's 
chest.) Lie still, my friend — we are not half done yet. (Picks his 
teeth with his tail.) 

Tiger. In my jungle I had a home— a home of domestic bliss ! 
There my beautiful wife, my innocent babes, wait my return, hun- 
gering for a fat negro for their breakfast. They wait in vain ! 
K"ever again will my familiar roar waken the echoes of my native 
jungle. (Wipes his eyes with his tail.) My widowed wife, my 
fatherless babes, in vain call upon me. And thou — (in a roaring 
voice) thou hast made them desolate ! (Puts his head over the back 
of the lounge, close to Karl's face.) 

Karl. Oh, you are smothering me ! 

Tiger. Did you not shoot me ? 

Karl. I^ever ! I never even saw you before ! (Moves uneasily, 
and Tiger draios bade. Oh ! (As if getting breath.) 

Chimpanzee. Lie still, my friend! there's more to come. (Tickles 
Karl's nose.) 

Karl. Couldn't you find a chair somewhere? Tou are really 
very heavy to sit on one's beast-bone. 

Chimpanzee. I am quite comfortable ! (Elephant's head rises 
slowly from behind lounge, the trunk leaving to and fro.) 

Karl. What is that ? 

Chimpanzee. Speak for yourself, Tootoo ! 

Elephant. (The effect of whose voice should be heightened by 
speaking through a paper tube.) I am Tootoo! Tootoo! Tootoo! 

Karl. "What do you want ? 

Elephant. The blood of an enemy— Tootoo ! 

Karl. But there is no one here ! 



A NIGHTMARE OF INDIA. 93 

Elephant. He is here who caused my death ! He is here who 
let the great Bengal tiger — 

Tiger. {Roaring.) That's me ! 

Elephant. You climbed up my legs, over my chest, tearing 
my skim lacerating my flesh. That was your business ; I've no 
spite against you. But I seek the wretch who fondled and petted 
me until I was his willing slave, and then doomed me to a cruel 
death, murdered me when I was the bleeding victim of his cruelty 
and vanity. I come for vengeance ! I — Tootoo ! Tootoo ! Tootoo ! 

Karl. {Struggling.) Get off my breast ! Let me get up ! 

Tiger. Hold him down ! hold him down ! {Leans over Karl.) 

Elephant. Crush him ! smother him ! ( Waves Ids trunk over 
Karl's face.) 

Karl. {Struggling.) I never heard of any of you ! This is some 
horrible conspiracy ! 

Enter Rhinoceros, on platform. 

Chimpanzee. Come here, my friend, and tell your woes — woes 
— {louder) woes ! 

All. {In a roaring noise.) TToes — woes — woes ! 

Rhinoceros. "Who came in the night to my pool of mud, where 
I lay in the shade of a rock — who ! 

All. "Wrio — who — who! 

Rhinoceros. And waited until I slept and was helpless, to give 
me a coward's blow ! 

All. Oh— oh— oh! 

Rhinoceros. "Who knew he could never conquer me in a fair 
battle, but waited until I lay low. 

All. Oh— oh ! 

Rhinoceros. But my ghost seeks revenge ! 

All. Our ghosts seek revenge ! 

Rhinoceros. Tou see, my fellow-sufferers, I depended upon my 
thick skin to save my bacon. I laugh at bullets ! 

All. Ha, ha, ha ! 

Rhinoceros. Knives are the best of jokes to me ! 

All. Ho, ho, ho ! 

Rhinoceros. Spears fly from me like straws. But where force 
would have failed, treachery gained the day. There are vulnera- 
ble spots, if my foe can approach me closely enough to thrust in 



94 A NIGHTMARE OF INDIA, 

his blade ; and I had supped well, quenched my thirst, and slept. 

Karl. {Struggling.) It is all a base fabrication! I never even 
saw a sleeping rhinoceros. 

Chimpanzee. Easy, now ! Don't interrupt the speaker ! 
{Presses Ms arms on Karl, to Jceep him down.) 

Elephant. Shall I come and stand on him, and relieve you ? 
( Waves Ms trunk.) 

Chimpanzee. Thank you, no ! I'll keep him quiet, {grinning 
in Karl's face) or I'll bite him ! 

Karl. Oh! let me get up and I'll fight the whole of you! 
{Struggles.) 

Tiger. What is he doing f 

Khinoceros. Where is the great Indian hunter? "We will hunt 
him! 

All. "We will hunt him! (Khinoceros and Tiger prowl 
around platform ; the Elephant waving Ms trunk, as if feeling 
about ; Chimpanzee chatters and grins.) 

Rhinoceros. (Putting one foot over lack of lounge, upon 
Karl's legs.) I have found our foe ! 

All. Oh, oh, oh ! 

Rhinoceros. Prostrate and low ! 

All. Oh, oh ! 

Chimpanzee. Yes ; we have him here, prostrate, and at ou r 
mercy. What shall we do to him ? (Karl must not speak, but 
mutter and groan, move uneasily, and jerk like a person in a 
nightmare, during all the conversation amongst the animals.) 

Elephant. I will walk over him, crushing all his bones — his bones! 

All. His bones ! his bones ! 

Tiger. I will take his head in my jaws, and grind his skull to 
powder! (All make a crunching noise.) 

Rhinoceros. I will take my horn and rip him to pieces ! Ha, ha ! 

All. Ha, ha! 

Tiger. {Sings — Tune, " Dixie' 's Land") 

We'll grind his bones to powder fine \ 

All. Oh, ho ! Oh, ho ! 

Tiger. We'll smash him up to powder fine ! 
And eat him without curry ! 

All. Oh, ho ! Oh, ho ! We'll eat him without curry ! 
Oh, ho I Oh, ho ! We'll eat him without curry ! 



A NIGHTMARE OF INDIA. 95 

Elephant. You quite forget I dun't eat meat ! How am I to 
be avenged ? 

Chimpanzee. That is really a difficult question, We ought to 
allow you to toss him about awhile in your trunk, walk over him 
a few times, and trumpet in his ears. 

Elephant. Tootoo ! Tootoo ! Tootoo ! 

Khinoceros. But my claim is as good, and I cannot eat the 
nasty little wretch, either. I can only gore him with my horn, 
pin him to a tree. 

Chimpanzee. Really, I think our friend the tiger ought to re- 
sign all claim while he is alive, since he only can make a dinner 
off him when dead. {Horrible roaring outside. ) 
Enter Lion, in a rage. 

Lion. "Why am I left out of this meeting, I should like to know ? 

Chimpanzee. Now here's a pretty mess ! 

Lion. "Who has a stronger claim upon upon this miserable car- 
cass than I have ? 

Rhinoceros. Tour majesty must forgive us ! 

Tiger. "We left you sleeping ! 

Lion. And made enough noise to rouse an entire forest. Let 
me see this vile slayer of lions. 

Chimpanzee. (Hopping up.) This way, your majesty — this way. 

Lion. (Coming close to Karl.) So! so! This is the great hun- 
ter ! This is the mighty Mmrod of India ! A dainty titbit he 
will make for my wife and babies, whom he brags he has left with- 
out a protector. (Boars.) 

Tiger. I claim half the meat, after the elephant and rhinoceros 
have finished him. 

Lion. Half! 

Tiger. Half, cut lengthwise ! My wife is especially fond of 
the right arm. 

Lion. Do you presume to dictate to me ? 

Tiger. I have the best claim. He killed me first. 

Chimpanzee. Don't quarrel, gentlemen. Tou can draw lots for 
the choice of pieces ! 

Lion. I claim the head. I like brain sauce ! 

Elephant. I think it is time we commenced. 

Chimpanzee. (Jumping on platform.) Take your turns I (All 
advance, roaring, growling and angrily, to the bach of lounge.) 



96 AN INDIAN RAID. 

Karl. Help ! help ! murder ! {Springs to middle of the floor. 
Curtain behind lounge drops and conceals background. Karl 
pants.) Go away! murder! {Looking around fearfully.) Bless 
me ! I must have had the nightmare ! 

Curtail. 



AS Il^DIAE" RAID. 



b aitacte*i$. 



Tom Dickson — A Western boy, 
Bob Dickson — Sis brother. 
Susy Dickson 
Daisy Dickson 



Sisters of Bob and Tom. 



Dick "Wetherill — Their cousin, from New York. 

SCENE — A Boom, furnished rather roughly, as if in a new settle- 
ment. The table and chairs of plain pine wood and the floor 
without carpet. In the background a large closet. Susy sew- 
ing ; Daisy playing with a doll. 

Susy. (Aside.) I am half sorry I consented to Tom's mischiev- 
ous plan for testing our city cousin's courage ! It does Dot seem 
exactly hospitable, especially while father and mother are both 
away. And yet Dick is certainly provoking, coming here from 
the city, to teach the frontier boys how to manage Indians and 
hunt. Papa had hard work not to laugh yesterday, when he said 
he could stand erect if a herd of buffaloes went past him, and 
shoot them as they passed. And as for Indians— why, he can fight 
an entire tribe single-handed ! Tom fairly choked when he said 
the proper way to (imitates) treat the red man is to annihilate the 
race, never to conciliate one man ! Dear ! dear ! 

Daisy. Susy, I'm not going to be afraid of the naughty Indians 
any more ! 

Susy. Are you not, darling ? 



AN INDIAN RAID. 97 

Daisy. No ; because Cousin Dick says he can Mil ever, ever so 
many — forty-'leven nineteen, if they come. 

Susy. Indeed ! 

Daisy. Ain't he brave, Susy ? He swells all up big when he 
talks about Indians. 

Susy. Exactly. (Aside.) I wonder if he would strut about so 
fiercely if he saw one. 

Daisy. He says he hopes they will come here! I — think I 
won't be afraid. 

Susy. (Aside.) I think I had better send her away. She is 
such a timid little darling. (Aloud.) Daisy! 

Daisy. Yes, Susy. 

Sttsy. "Won't you run over to Mrs. Green's, and ask her to lend 
me the pattern she promised me. You may stay and play with 
Mamie a little while. 

Daisy. Yes, I will go. Come, Dolly, you and I will go see 
Mamie. (Exit Daisy.) 

Susy. It is just as well to be on the safe side. 

Enter Dick, very much dressed, and carrying a very showy rifle. 

Dick. G-ood morning, cousin! (Puts rifle down.) 

Susy. Good morning ! Are you going out ? 

Dick. I think I will take a tramp over the hills, as soon as Tom 
and Bob come. 

Susy. They will soon be here. Will you not sit down ? (Aside.) 
I hope Tom remembered to draw the charge in that rifle. 

Dick. "We are going deer-stalking. 

Susy. I hope you will not meet any Indians. 

Dick. Pooh ! Who cares for an Indian ! 

Susy. But several of them together are no joke, I assure you ! 

Dick. I'm not afraid ! 

Susy. "Well, one need not be exactly afraid, you know, but com- 
mon prudence suggests caution. 

Dick. Brave men despise caution. 

Susy. That is a new maxim. "We at the "West think the bravest 
men are the most prudent. But if you should meet a party of In- 
dians, you may safely trust to Bob. He can speak with them, 
and conciliate them. 



98 AN INDIAN RAID. 

Dick. I would never stoop to conciliate one. If they were in- 
solent, I should shoot them down. 

Susy. And have the whole tribe upon yon for vengeance. That 
would be poor policy, unless you had an army to support you ! 

Dick. I do not believe in timidity and coaxing. Show an In- 
dian a brave, defiant front, and he will flee away. 

Enter Daisy. 

Daisy. Oh, Susy ! I started to go see Mamie, and, oh, Susy ! 
Susy ! I am afraid ! 

Susy. What is the matter with my pet? {Aside.) I did not bar- 
gain to have Daisy frightened. 

Daisy. Oh, Susy, there are two big Indians at the back door, 
and they want the city chap ! 

Dick. {Trembling violently.) The city chap! 

Daisy. They say there is a boy here who wants all the Indians 
killed, and they want him. If he doesn't go with them, they'll set 
the house a-flre. 

Dick. {Dreadfully terrified.) Oh, Susy, say I am out! 

Susy. Nonsense. Go to them boldly, and tell them to go about 
their business — or shoot them ! 

Dick. And have the whole tribe here after me ? 

Susy. "Well, show them a defiant front ! {Outside a great jab' 
bering % in guttural voices.) 

Dick. They are coming ! they are coming ! Oh, Susy, where 
can I hide ? {Buns into closet, and holds door.) 

Susy. {Aside.) Tom was right. He is a coward! 

Enter Tom and Bob, painted and dressed as Indians, flourishing 
tomahawks and making guttural noises. Daisy runs out. 

Tom. On — on — ah — hoo — yah ! 

Bob. Hoo— hoo — ya — yam! 

Susy. {Standing up.) What do you want ? {During the fol- 
lowing conversation Susy must stand between Dick and the In- 
dians, who stand so as not to see the closet when Dick speaks. In 
speaking Dick must put out his head, and draw it in again as if 
fearful of discovery.) 

Tom. "Wantee white boy ! 

Dick. Oh, Susy, say I went home to-day! 



AST INDIAN KAID. 99 

Susy. But we have more than one white boy here. 

Bob. (Fiercely.) Wantee city boy ! 

Susy. What do you want of him 1 

Tom. Wantee kill him ! 

Bob. (Savagely.) Wantee scalp him! 

Tom. Wantee burn at stake ! 

Bob. Wantee shoot arrow in he ! 

Susy. Why, what has he done ? 

Dick. Oh, Susy, Susy, protect me ! 

Tom. Talkee bad. 

Bob. Very bad. 

Tom. 'Bout Injun. Say Injun snake ! 

Bob. Say he dog ! 

Tom. Say killee— killee all Injun ! 

Bob. Injun killee he ! Ugh— ugh ! Injun killee he— burnee ! 
shootee ! scalpee ! 

Dick. Oh, Susy, can't you send them away? 

Susy. But we cannot give up our guest to be scalped and shot ! 

Tom. (Fiercely.) Burnee house down! 

Susy. Are you not Shoot-'em-in-eye? 

Tom. Ugh ! Ugh ! Me Shoot-'em-in-eye ! 

Susy. Don't you remember coming here half starved, and be- 
ing fed ? 

Tom. Ugh ! Ugh ! Give me bake beans— wantee more bake 
beans ! 

Susy. But I'm not going to feed you now. 

Dick. Oh, Susy, give him the beans. Give him anything ! 

Tom. Bakee white boy ! 

Bob. Like bakee white boy better than bean ! 

Tom. Better than bakee dog ! 

Susy. But we will not give you the white boy to bake. You 
had better go away. If you commit any violence, the whole set- 
tlement will turn out to follow you. 

Dick. That's right, Susy, scare them away ! 

Tom. Not settlement boy ! Wantee city boy. Settlement boy 
no talkee bad 'bout Injun. 

Bob. City boy want all Injun killee ! 

Susy. But he is only a boy. He could not hurt you if he tried ! 

Tom. Got shootee gun, killee long way off ! 



100 AN INDIAN RAID. 

Bob. Got shootee pistol, shootee fivee, sixee Injun — pop — pop—' 
pop — never stopped ! 

Susy. It is a pity you bragged so much about your rifle and 
revolver. 

Dick. Tell them they can have both if they will only go away. 
(Tom and Bob prowl about the room, as if looking for Dick.) 

Tom. Where he hidee ? 

Bob. He hidee ! Injun findee ! 

Sttsy. I don't know what I can do ! 

Dick. Coax them into the kitchen! Give them my rifle, my 
pistol — anything ! 

Tom. Give Injun something eatee? 

Dick. 0h ; Susy, do — feed them into good temper ! 

Susy. But that is conciliation. 

Dick. Oh, get them away ! I'll go home to-morrow if I escape 
now. 

Bob. Got whisky? 

Susy. No. 

Bob. "Wantee eatee ! wantee drinkee ! 

Tom. Findee beans ! (Both rush at closet and pull out Dick.) 

Dick. (Falling on his knees.) Mercy ! mercy ! Oh, good Indians, 
let me go ! I'll give you my watch ! 

Tom. Lookee watchee ! (Holds out his hand.) 

Dick. Take it ! I'll give you everything I've got ! My money ! 
(Gives Tom watch.) 

Bob. Lookee money ! (Holds out his hand.) 

Dick. (Pulling out his purse.) Here ! here ! 

Susy. But, Dick, this is worse than conciliation— it is downright 
bribery. 

Dick. Oh, Susy, I can't help it ! See how fierce they look ! 

Susy. I'll get your rifle. 

Dick. (In an agony of terror.) Not for the world! If I hurt 
one, the other would murder me outright. (Tom and Bob come 
forward, as if examining money and watch.) 

Tom. Ugh ! ugh ! gotee watchee ! (Strings it to belt.) Tickee ! 
tickee ! (Aside to Bob.) I guess he will not have so much to say 
about Indians to-morrow. 

Bob. Gotee money, (flourishes tomahawk) wantee scalp ! 

Dick. Oh, what can I give them ! 



AN INDIAN EAID. 101 

Tom. Wantee coat ! 

Dick. {Standing up.) Yes, yes, good Indian ! Take it. {Gives 
coat. Tom ties it round his neck by the sleeves.) 

Bob. Wantee shiney finger ! 

Dick. Oh, Susy, what is it ? 

Susy. Tour ring ! But I would not be robbed in this way ! 

Dick. It is not your scalp they want ! (Takes off ring.) 

Bob. Wantee shiney finger, quickee ! 

Dick. (Giving ring.) Yes — yes ! (Gives ring.) 

Tom. Wantee red— redee ! 

Susy. Your necktie is red. 

Dick. Take it ! (Gives necktie.) 

Tom. Ugh ! ugh ! Injun fine ! ( Ties necktie on his leg.) 

Bob. Wantee shootee ! 

Dick. What is it, Susy? Oh, cannot we persuade them to 
go? 

Susy. It must be your rifle ! But you surely will not give them 
that ! You said it cost so much ! 

Dick. It is not worth so much as my scalp ! (Gives Bob rifle.) 

Tom. TJgh ! ugh ! "Wantee scalp ! 

Bob. Wantee scalp ! (Bob and Tom dance around Dick, 
flourishing their tomahawks. He drops into a chair, trembling 
with fear, and they rub his hair all up on end.) 

Susy. Come into the kitchen and you shall have some food. 

Tom. Wantee chokee ! (Points to Dick's collar.) 

Dick. (Giving collar.) Yes, yes, good Indian! 

Bob. Wantee bootee ! 

Dick. (Giving his boots.) Oh, good Indian, anything I've got! 
(Tom puts the collar on his arm, like a bracelet. It should have a 
button. Bob fastens the boots together, and strings them round 
his neck.) 

Tom. Ugh ! ugh ! When Injun get scalp he be fine ! 

Bob. Wantee scalp ! Me havee ! 

Tom. Me havee. 

Bob. (Very fiercely.) Me havee white boy scalp ! 

Tom. (Verg savagely.) Me takee ! takee ! (They begin to jab- 
ber angrily and flourish their tomahaivks.) 

Dick. Oh, Susy, if they would only murder each other ! 

Tom. Me takee ! (Bushes at Dick, ivho runs.) 



102 AN INDIAN RAID. 

Bob. Me scalpee ! (Both chase Dick, who dodges here and 
there, finally running into closet again.) 

Susy. (Standing in front of closet.) Stand back ! 

Dick. Oh, yes, Susy ! Make them stand back ! 

Tom. Brave white boy ! Gettee behind squaw 

Bob. Hidee behind squaw gown ! 

Sttsy. Hold the door, Dick. I will try to coax the Indians into 
the kitchen with me, if I can, to have some baked beans and cof- 
fee. (Aside to Tom.) You are carrying the joke too far. You will 
terrify the life out of him ! 

Tom. (Aside to Susy.) It is such fun, after all his bombast! 
(Aloud,) Ugh! get bean! 

Susy. Come ! (Tom and Bob follow Susy out of room.) 

Dick. (Coming forward.) Oh, what shall I do? What shall I 
do ? They must have heard what I said, and they will come back 
and kill me ! There is no way to get out of the house without 
going through the kitchen. My splendid rhie — my watch— my 
diamond ring ! And all for nothing I 

Enter Daisy. 

Daisy. Cousin Dick ! 

Dick. I am here, Daisy ! 

Daisy. Cousin Dick, Susy says the Indians are going away. 

Dick. Are you sure ? 

Daisy. Susy says so. 

Enter Susy. 

Dick. Oh, Susy, are they really gone ? 

Susy. "Who? 

Dick. The Indians ! 

Susy. What Indians ? 

Dick. The Indians who were here just now ! 

Susy. You must have been asleep, Dick. There have been no 
Indians here for months. The last were here long before you 
came. But they very often do stop here. 

Dick. ISTo Indians here ? 

Daisy. Where is your coat, Cousin Dick ? 

Dick. (Bewildered.) Sure enough. Where is my coat, if there 
were no Indians here ? 



AN INDIAN RAID. 103 

Daisy. And you've lost your collar, too, and your necktie ; and, 
oh, Cousin Dick, you look awfully funny ! You've not got any 
boots ! And your hair is all mussed ! 

Susy. Cousin Dick has been asleep, and had the nightmare ! 

Dick. (Aside.) Can I have been asleep? It must be— and I 
came down-stairs without being dressed. I never knew anything 
so extraordinary ! Cousin Susy, I hope you will pardon my dis- 
ordered garments. I really scarcely know how to apologize. Eut 
I had a strange dream. 
• Susy. About Indians, you said f 

Dick. Yes ; (grandly) and in my enthusiasm to conquer them, 
I must have thrown aside my coat and boots. 

Enter Tom and Bob, dressed as before, with the exception oftlieir 
heads. Their faces are washed, and their hair parted and 
smooth. 

Tom. Certainly ; you threw them aside I 

Bob. And we picked them up ! 

Both. (Dancing round Dick.) Wantee scalpee ! Brave boy, 
hidee behind squaw ! 

Dick. ( Timidly. ) It was no dream, then ! You were the Indians ! 
(Boldly.) It was a mean trick to play on me, and I don't thank 
you for it. 

Tom. The meanness was not on our side. "We suspected that 
your grand talk about bravery was not genuine, and we determined 
to try you. You can answer how you stood the test. 

Bob. And we hope this will be a wholesome lesson to you in 
future. Your boasting might have led you into a far more serious 
scrape, and you should rather thank us for the friendly lesson which 
we have given you. 

Dick, (Looking at Susy, who is smiling at him.) Well, I sup- 
pose I must accept the situation, and take your masquerading in 
the way it was intended. I do thank you; I will lay this lesson 
to heart, and shall never forget the "Indian Kaid." 

Curtain. 



104 GOING ! GOING ! GONE ! 



GOING! GOING! GONE! 



(JJhaKacteijs. 



John. 


Stephen Slipperton. 


Harry. 


Mr. Jones. 


"Will. 


Mrs. Smith. 


Charley. 


Mrs. Johnson. 



As many boys and ladies and gentlemen, dressed as customers, as 
the strength of the company and limits of the stage will allow. 

SCENE. — A large empty Boom. In the background a large 
table, and behind this table black curtains that separate in the 
middle. There must be sufficient space back of these curtains for 
the table to be pulled back and hidden behind them. Attached 
to the table legs are strong ropes, and the part of pidling the 
table back should be carefully rehearsed, and work very smoothly. 
On the end of the table two candles, the wicks covered with 
flame-colored paper, as a real light would be dangerous. But 
when the table disappears, as will be described, the lights must be 
lowered suddenly, as the candles are supposed to light the scene. 
John, Harry, Will, Charley, and as many other boys as pos- 
sible, assembled front of stage. 

John. Now, boys, are we all of one mind with regard to Mr. 
Stephen Slipperton ? 

Harry. I think we are. 

All. We are ! We are ! 

Will. We are all of the opinion that he is a frand, a swindler, 
a cheat, and that Eagle Hill has had abont enough of him. 

Charley. Therefore we are going to gently hint to him this 
evening that his services are no longer required. 

John. We bore his cheats patiently while he confined them to 
thinly- washed brass for silver. 

Harry. Cloth that fell to pieces in the rain ! 

Will. Caps that went into holes in a high wind ! 



going! going! gone! 105 

Charley. Boots with the soles gummed on ! 

John. Emery bags stuffed with sand ! 

"Will. Shirts that disappeared in the first washing ! 

Harry. Silk handkerchiefs nine-tenths cotton ! 

Charley. Fire-works that wouldn't go off ! 

John. But when he brought out that lot of Sheffield ware pen- 
knives at a great bargain, and imposed upon this community to a 
boy with a wretched cast-iron fraud, he — 

Will. Eoused the American Eagle ! 

Charley. "Wakened the sleeping Yankee Doodle ! 

Harry. And invited the vengeance of the boys of Eagle Hill ! 

John. He will be here at eight o'clock to again offer his imita- 
tion jewelry and cast-iron cutlery to a confiding public. Are we 
resolved, to a boy, to stop his fraudulent career? 

All. We are ! We are ! 

Harry. See how the night is. 

Will. (Looking out between the curtains.) Raining fast. 

John. Is the mud thick behind there 1 

Will. Like a custard ! 

Charley. Plenty of puddles ? 

Will. Hundreds ! 

John. Man the ropes ! 

Will. Boy the ropes, you mean ! 

John. Eun across to the shed, and huddle close until I give the 
signal. You all know it. (All the boys, except John, go behind the 
curtain. ) I think, Mr. Slipperton, Eagle Hill will convince you to- 
night that your room is preferable to your company. ( Clock strikes 
eight.) Eight o'clock. It is time he was here ! 

Enter Stephen, carrying a carpet-bag. 

Stephen. Oh, you are here, are you f 

John. Of course I am. Didn't I tell you I would be ? (Affects 
a half -stupid air.) 

Stephen. H'm ! IsTow I want you to understand your business. 
My assistant has met with an accident in the next town, and I 
must have some one in his place. You look like a smart boy. 

John. Thankye, sir! 

Stephen. (Putting carpet-bag on table and opening it.) You see, 
when I am standing upon the table, I cannot well reach the goods. 



106 going! going! gone! 

You must stand here in front, and pass them to me, or to our cus- 
tomers. Understand ? 

John. Yes, sir. Don't you want some more candles ? 

Stephen. Certainly not ! certainly not ! The less light the 
better. 

John. (Aside.) That's about the only thing he has ever said at 
Eagle Hill that wasn't a lie. 

Stephen. Now, then, (taking a bell out of bag) ring that, while 
I get on the table. (John rings the bell loudly, Stephen climbs 
on table and stands to face audience.) 

Enter Mrs. Smith, Mr. Jones, Mrs. Johnson, and others. The 
bids marked Yoice must be made by the customers and ar- 
ranged at rehearsal. When all are in, John stops ringing bell 
and stands beside table. 

Stephen. Ladies and gentlemen, I have this evening a splendid 
assortment of first-class goods and samples of goods that must be 
sold. The first lot is a magnificent cameo set. Pass up that 
cameo set— (John passes box) breastpin and ear-rings ! Classic 
heads— Titania, Babylon and Siberia ! 

John. (Aside.) Shades of Homer defend us ! 

Stephen. Finest cameos, engraved by best Italian artists, and 
set in solid gold ! I sold seven sets this morning for fifty dollars 
each ! "Who bids on this set ? Fifty dollars— forty-five— forty— 
thirty-five ! Oh, this is monstrous ! They are given away at thirty 
dollars ! Twenty-five ! Come, gentlemen, give me a bid ? Twen- 
ty — fifteen — start it yourselves ! "What is bid on this splendid 
cameo set, worth sixty dollars ? 

Mr. Jones. Twenty -five cents. 

Stephen. Thank you, sir. Twenty-five dollars bid on this— 

Mr. Jones. (Loudly.) Twenty-five cents ! 

Stephen. Oh, come now, you're joking ! "Well, I will start it, 
although really— you know—that is a little too absurd. Twenty- 
five cents is bid upon this cameo set — gold setting — twenty-five 
r—^ve — five ! 

Yoice. Thirty! 

Stephen. Thirty— thirty— going for thirty cents, this superb 
cameo set— thirty ! 

Yoice. Thirty-five! 



going! going! gone! 107 

Stephen. Thirty-five cents — it is positive stealing, really dread- 
ful ; why, the gold setting is worth twenty dollars alone, and each 
stone is a gem ! Going for thirty-five ! 

Yoice. Forty! 

Yoice. Forty-five ! 

Yoice. Fifty! 

Mr. Jones. One dollar ! (A pause. ) 

Stephen. One dollar only am I bid for this superb cameo set ! 
One dollar ! Who'll make it a dollar five ? One dollar ! One 
dollar ! One dollar ! Come, gentlemen, I've a lot more goods to 
sell — one dollar ! one dollar ! Going ! Going ! Gone ! to Mr. — 

Mr. Jones. Mr. Peter Jones ! 

Stephen. And I hope the robbery won't weigh upon your con- 
science, as it ought. One dollar ! I shall not offer another set. 
It would ruin me ! The next lot, ladies, is a shawl. Hand me 
that shawl. (John hands shawl.) A real India shawl! (The 
shawl shoudbe conspicuously cheap-loolcing.) 

John. (Aside.) Made in Lowell. 

Stephen. Imported direct from Australia by our firm. All 
made of the finest camel's hair — our firm raise their own camels — 
dyed in the wool, ladies, can't fade ! These shawls cost us two 
hundred dollars apiece in India ! 

Mr. Jones. Thought you said Australia? 

Stephen. Exactly ! What am I bid for this superb camel's hair 
shawl ? Dyed in the wool, soft as satin, warm as fur ! Come, 
gentlemen, give me a bid. 

Mrs. Johnson. Two dollars ! 

Stephen. Do you think I am a lunatic ? Two dollars ! I never 
heard anything so preposterous ! 

Mrs. Smith. Two-fifty ! 

Stephen. Will no one give me a reasonable bid? (Pause.) 
Two-fifty for a real India shawl, finest camel's hair. Cost two 
hundred in Australia. Going for two-fifty, two-fifty— 

Yoice. Three ! 

Stephen. For three dollars— three, three— who'll say three-fifty ? 

Yoice. Three -fifty ! 

Stephen. Thank ye ! Three-fifty, for three-fifty. 

Yoice. Three-seventy-five ! 

Yoice. Four! (Pause.) 



108 GOING ! GOING ! GONE ! 

Stephen. Four dollars ! Come, ladies, you'll never have such 
a chance again — the only one left— look at it ! (Hands shawl to 
John, ivho passes it to customers.) 

Mrs. Johnson. Feels kinder cottony ! 

Mrs. Smith. Smells o' dye ! 

Mr. Jones. Dear at twenty-five cents ! 

Stephen. Going at four dollars! At four! Four! (Shawl 
handed bade to Stephen.) Who'll give me four-fifty? 

Toice. Four-fifty! 

Stephen. It really is too ridiculous ! A real India shawl! "Why, 
the Sultan of Khamajamboorahpoo has the exact counterpart of 
that shawl for his Sultaness. I've seen her with it on ! Give me 
a respectable bid ! Four-fifty !— fifty ! 

Mrs. Smith. Five ! 

Stephen. Five, live ! Who'll give me five-fifty? Five ! five! 
Going ! going ! (Pause.) Gone ! to Mrs.— 

Mrs. Smith. Mrs. Mirandy Smith ! 

Stephen. And a bargain you have, Mrs. Smith. You won't 
find such a shawl as that anywhere for less than three hundred 
dollars ! 

Charley. (Crawls out from behind curtain, under the table. 
Aside to John.) John! 

John. (Aside to Charley.) In a minute ! 

Charley. I'm a committee of one from outside. 

John. Somebody will see you. (Charley hides under table.) 

Stephen. The next lot, gentlemen, is a watch — a fine chronome- 
ter watch — pass that watch up here. (John passes watch.) 
They set the city clock by that watch in London for five years ! 
Solid gold, patent lever attachment ! What am I bid for this mag- 
nificent watch, gentlemen ? One hundred dollars— ninety— eighty 
— seventy — 

Charley. (Loudly. ) Two hundred dollars ! 

Stephen. Thank you, sir ! I am glad there is one gentleman 
here who can appreciate a bargain when he sees it ! Two hundred 
dollars I am bid for this splendid gold watch— two hundred ! Who 
will make it two hundred and ten ? Two hundred — two hundred ! 

Charley. Two hundred and fifty ! 

Stephen. Ah, this begins to look like business ! Two hundred 
and fifty— two hundred and fifty — fifty — fifty ! Who'll make it 



going! going! gone! 109 

fifty-five ? Fifty, fifty ! Going— going ! Gone ! to — (Profound 
silence.) 

Stephen. Who gets this magnificent watch for two hundred and 
fifty dollars? Yon, sir? You? Yon? (All shake their heads.) 

Mr. Jones. Come, whoever yon are, don't keep ns waiting here 
all night ! 

Stephen. (To John.) Find that fellow ! 

John. (Pretending to look around.) I think he must have run 
out, sir. 

Mr. Jones. Put the watch up again ! 

Stephen. Now I want no more fooling. An honest man can't 
get a living if he is to be made the victim of such jokes. (To 
John.) You keep a sharp look out, and if there is any more such 
nonsense, just call in the police. (Holds up watch.) Who bids 
on this solid gold watch ? 

Mr. Jones. One dollar ! 

Stephen. Oh, thank you ! (Sarcastically.) One dollar, I think 
you said ? 

Mr. Jones. One dollar ! 

Stephen. Well, any bid will do to start on ! One dollar I am 
bid for this splendid watch, in prime order, set with jewels, solid 
gold ! One dollar — one — one — 

Yoice. One-fifty ! 

Stephen. One-fifty — fifty — who'll make it two? One-fifty — 
fifty- 

Yoice. One-seventy -five ! 

Stephen. One-se venty-five — five — five — 

Yoice. Two ! 

Stephen. Two dollars I am bid for the watch— two— two — 

Mrs. Johnson. Two-twenty-five ! 

Stephen. Two-twenty-five— five— five ! (Pause.) Who bids 
two-fifty ? Two-twenty-five ! Going ! Going ! Gone ! — to— 

Mrs. Johnson. Mrs. Johnson ! (John takes watch.) 

Stephen. The next lot is a set of diamond studs. Pass me 
those studs ! (John passes box.) These, gentlemen, are handed 
to me by a gentleman in misfortune, who wishes to dispose of 
them. They were purchased m London, and cost Hve hundred 
dollars— pure diamonds, set in jet. Look at them ! (John passes 
studs.) 



110 going! going! gone! 

Charley. (Aside to John.) I say, John, it's getting awfully 
cold under that shed. 

John. Must have a little patience ! 

Charley. And it rains cats and dogs ! 

John. So much the better. Huddle close ! 

Charley. The fellows sent me in to tell you to hurry up. 

John. Some one will see you. Get back ! I won't be long now. 
Listen for the signal. (Exit Charley. Stephen fusses over the 
carpet-bag ; gives it back to John during this conversation. Cus- 
tomers examine studs.) 

Stephen. (Standing up. ) "Well, gentlemen, what is offered for 
those genuine diamond studs? (Studs passed bach) These are 
not made to sell ; but the property of a gentleman in temporary 
trouble, who entrusted them to my care. Cost five hundred dol- 
lars! "What am I bid ? Five hundred— five hundred— four hun- 
dred and fifty — four hundred — three hundred and fifty ! Come, 
gentlemen, you surely don't expect me to give these away ! Three 
hundred — three hundred dollars for a set of pure diamond studs, 
worth five hundred. 

John. (Aside.) Can't he pile it on ! 

Stephen. Three hundred — two-fifty — two hundred— oh, this is 
absurd ! If you haven't any money, what do you come to an auc- 
tion sale for ? 

Toice. Never mind that ! Go on with the sale ! 

Stephen. Two hundred ! "Who offers me two hundred dollars 
on this magnificent set of studs? (Pause.) Make a hid, gentle- 
men, make a bid. 

Yoice. Five cents ! 

Stephen. Put that madman where the rain will cool his brain. 

Mr. Jones, Ten cents. 

Stephen. There are two lunatics here. 

Yoice. Fifteen cents ! 

Stephen. Go on, gentlemen— keep the farce up until you are 
tired ! 

Yoice. Twenty cents. (Perfect silence.) 

Stephen. Oh, you've had enough fun ! Now make me a bid. 

Yoice. I bid twenty cents ! 

Stephen. Twenty cents ! I'll not put up another lot to-night. 

John. (Aside.) I don't think you will ! 



GOING I. GOrN T G ! GONE ! Ill 

Stephen. Twenty cents for three diamond studs ! 

John. (Aside.) "Warranted paste. 

Stephen. In setting of jet and solid gold backs. 

John. (Aside.) So far back yon can't find it. 

Stephen. Twenty cents ! I would never have believed such a 
bid could be made, if I had not heard it ! Twenty cents — going 
for twenty cents, a set of diamond studs, twenty— twenty — 

Yoice. Twenty -five ! 

Mr. Jones. Thirty ! 

Stephen. Thirty cents I'm bid ! thirty — thirty-— who'll make 
it thirty-five ? Thirty ! thirty ! 

Mrs. Smith. Thirty-five ! 

Stephen. Thirty-five I'm bid— thirty-live cents— the gentle- 
man who entrusted these studs to me will murder me outright ! 
Thirty-five ! 

Yoice. Forty! 

Stephen. Forty ! G-oing for forty cents ! 

Yoice. Forty-five ! 

Stephen. For forty-five ! forty-five — - 

Mr. Jones. Fifty ! 

Stephen. Fifty ! fifty ! Who'll make it fifty-five f fifty, fifty, 
going ! (John gives a shrill whistle,) Going ! Going ! 

Boys. (Behind curtain.) Gone! (Tlie table is pulled back sud- 
denly, the curtain parting as it goes in, and falling instantly. 
Stephen holding on in a crouching position, as if thrown off his 
balance. Lights suddenly lowered.) 

Curtain. 



112 THE BOOK-PEDDLER. 



THE BOOK-PEDDLER 



($ h a t{ a o t e q s . 

Simon Smoothtongue — J. Book-peddler. 

John. 

Harry. 

Mary. 

Louisa. 

SCEKE.— A Sitting-room. John ^m$ Harry reading ; Mary 
awe? Louisa sewing. 

John. (Looking tip from his book. ) Are we going rowing ? 

Louisa. Is ot until after tea. Mamma said that we must not go 
before sunset. 

Mary. And I want to finish my pin-cushion. 

Harry. Oh, you girls don't think of anything else but that 
bothersome old fair. Tou are sewing all the time. (Bell rings.) 

Louisa. I wonder who that is ? 

Mary. I hope it is not a visitor, when papa and mamma are 
both out. 

Enter Simon, with a satchel. 

Simon. Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen ! 

Harry. Good afternoon ! 

Simon. I called in to see if I could not sell you a few books. 

John. Got any new ones ? 

Simon. All new ! I wouldn't think of offering old books to such 
an enlightened community as I find at Puddletown. Tour mayor 
took several. (Opens satchel.) 

Mary. I should like a new story-book. 

Simon. Here it is, then; " The Maniac of the Hills, or the Sui- 
cide's Eevenge !" 

Mary. Oh, I am quite sure mamma won't let me read that ! 

Simon. (Speaking volubly.) I have a lovely history here — his- 
tory of the world— beautiful pictures. (Showing book.) Here is 
"Washington crossing the Mle— see the alligators! And this is 



THE BOOK-PEDDLEP. 113 

kelson at Bunker Hill— a portrait, too ! And this one represents 
the discovery of the Mississippi by Xapoleon Bonaparte ! 

Louisa. Did ever anybody hear such a tongue ! 

John. TVTiat is this f {Taking up book.) 

Simon. Lectures on Astronomy — tells you all about the col- 
lapses of Mars, and the eclipses of Jupiter Apollo, and the tidal 
waves in the moon ! Yery interesting ! All young people ought 
to read it. Illustrated, too ! Got pictures of the comet Yesuvius 
and the planet of Oberon ! Sold two copies to your seminary ! 

Mary. Is it possible ! What is the blue-bound book ? 

Simon. Tennyson ! Got all his poetry — " Macbeth" and "Tha- 
natopsis n and " Eory O'More " — and all the rest of them; with a 
picture of the poet as he appeared at the Siege of Corinth. 

Harry. That must be interesting ! 

Simon. Yery. Most young ladies like poetry. Can't I sell you 
this volume, miss ? Dirt cheap. Only one dollar. Bound in blue 
and gold — ten steel engravings, by Michael Angelo, designed ex- 
pressly for this work. 

Louisa. (Taking tip book.) Tou seem to have a great variety of 
works. 

Simon. Everything you can mention on my list. I only carry a 
few as specimens, but all orders will be filled with accuracy and 
dispatch. iNeat thing you have there. 

Harry. What is it, Lou f 

Louisa. {Beading title.) "Selections from the Poets/' 

Simon. Best collection ever published. All the great poets are 
there : Horace Greeley and JSTicholas Xickleby and Dan Bryant. 

John. {Very gravely.) Anything from Tittlebat Titmouse's 
tragedy of " Cheese-cakes and Cider" ? 

Simon. Certainly there is! ISTo selection of poetry would be 
complete without that ! 

Mary. {Looking at a book.) " Stories from Homer." This looks 
interesting, Harry. 

Harry. {Looking over Mary's shoulder.) Yery ! 

Simon. Let me sell you that. Splendid edition ! (Aside.) I 
wish I could read ! It would be so much easier to rind out what 
the books are about. 

Harry. I wonder if it is a reliable translation ? 

Simon. (Briskly. ) Oh, yes ; I am sure it is ! Translated from 



114 THE BOOK-PEDDLEJR. 

the French— (aside) it mast be French \— (aloud) by a great 
scholar, employed by our firm, Mr. Ebenezer Scratchapen. Writes 
French and German, and can talk Portuguese as if he was a born 
Portugoose himself. 

Mary. (Doubtfully.) I have half a mind to have this. I never 
expect to study Greek, and I should like to read some of the 
" Iliad." 

Simon. Better take it, miss, while you can. Whole edition sold 
in ten days, and only that one copy left. I couldn't get another if 
I tried. 

Louisa. (Still looking over book.) Here is " Thanatopsis," Mary. 

Simon. (Aside.) " Thanatopsis !" Oh, I know, " Uncle Tom's 
Cabin." (Aloud.) Yes, miss, you'll find several extracts from 
Uncle Tom's works. (Aside.) I declare, though, I never knew 
before that Topsy wrote poetry. 

John. Got any book about fishing and shooting? 

Simon. Of course I have. (Tumbling over books.) Here is one. 
H'm ! — my eyes are not good. 

John. Why, that is a "Treatise on Needlework." 

Simon. (Aside.) So it is. I thought that knitting-needle was a 
fishing-pole. Yery confusing not to be able to read. (Finds an- 
other book.) Will this do ? 

John. Not exactly ! That is a cook-book. 

Simon. The ladies will like that. Perhaps you will see if you 
can find something to suit you while I show the ladies this work. 

John. (Turning over books.) Yery well. (Aside to Harry.) 
His eyes must be very bad ! 

Harry. (Aside to John.) Or he doesn't know how to read. 

Simon. I would like you to look at this work on cookery, ladies. 
Written by a professional in the business, head cook to the Queen 
of England. (Aside.) What is his name ? I was told especially 
to remember that. Maccaroni ? No ! It was a long name — Fran- 
gipanni! I do believe that is it. (Aloud.) Frangipanni's cook-book, 
ladies, full of plates. Cod's head on batter, illustrated. 

Harry. (Aside to John.) I wonder if it has calf's head on lit- 
erature ? 

Mary. (Examining book.) Mother would like this ! 

Simon. Housekeepers cannot five without it ! Children cry for 
it ! The most popular book of the season— only four dollars ! 



THE BOOK-PEDDLER. 115 

Louisa. Oh, Mary, I would not like to give that price, unless 
we were sure mother would care for it ! 

John. Here's a tip-top book, Harry. 

Harry. What is it? 

John. " The American Boy's Own Book." ( Both Boys examine 
book.) 

Simon. (Aside.) I must get off some more of that stuff I learned 
by heart from the man who sold me his district. Let me think a 
minute— oh, yes ! (Aloud.) I have a very fine work here : " The 
Eeady Speaker," full of pieces to recite at exhibitions, all made up 
from first-class writers. Poetry, prose, dramatic and grammatic ! 
Here's extracts from Shakespeare — everybody recites Shakespeare 
—and here are selections from his very last work, just published; on 
the Turco-Kussian war — martial, you know. And here's the 
speech Yirgil made at the Fourth of July celebration at Mount 
Ternon — every American boy ought to learn that ! 

Mary. (Aside to Louisa.) Is he crazy, or does he think we are 
four first-class idiots ? 

Louisa. (Aside to Mary.) Both, I guess. 

Simon. (Aside. ) There was a whole lot more of it ! I ought to re- 
member it, when we went it over together about seventeen dozen 
times. (Aloud.) There is a splendid book about the fashions here ; 
tells how to make everything ladies wear — button-hole stitch tarletan 
bonnets, Honiton lace, vinaigrettes, silver gilt ribbon gloves, chan- 
delier lace, petticoats — everything ! Why, the directions for em- 
broidering palm leaf fans alone is worth the whole price of the 
book — only fifty cents ! Tells you how to bias your apron strings, 
how to dove-tail your table-cloths, how to herring-bone your back 
hair. Everything a lady ought to know. 

John. (Aside to Harry.) Wind him up again! He has run 
down! 

Harry. Did you ever hear anything like it? 

John. (To Simon.) What have you in fiction? 

Simon. Everything ! Here is the last edition of " The Lives of 
Great Heroes." 

Harry. Bless me ! does he mean to be sarcastic ? 

Simon, I assure you my stock comprises everything worth 
reading ! It has been carefully selected for enlightened counties, 
such as this one ; for talented boys, (bowing to John) beautiful 



116 THE BOOK-PEDDLER. 

ladies, (bowing to Mary) rising genius, (bowing to Harry) and 
graceful refinement (bowing to Louisa). Do you want poetry f 
Here are all the poets ! Smollet, Hume, Macaulay ; all the histo- 
rians ! Horace, Virgil, Sidney Smith ; all the astronomers ! Dick- 
ens, Braddon, Collins ! You cannot name any character of work 
not upon our list ! (Pauses, out of breath.) 

Mary. (To Louisa.) I wish I had not ordered that new trim- 
ming on my dress. It makes my pocket-money very trifling this 
week. 

Louisa. (To Mary.) And I do not dare to break into mine un- 
til my bonnet comes home. 

Simon. There is a very pretty thing here, (selects booh) all about 
pets— aviaries, ferneries, aquariums — every sort of recreation! 
Sold twenty copies just a little way from here, for a biographical 
society, looking for good authorities for their labors. (To Mary.) 
Can't I sell you this, ma'am? 

Mary. I think not to-day. 

Simon. Great mistake not to take these opportunities. Tery 
poor show of books in your store. I took a look at them as I 
passed. Their editions are all incomplete. Why, there is a whole 
volume missing of Waverley's "Hiawatha." (Aside.) I am sure 
that was the one the other peddler said was gone. 

Louisa. And have you the complete set? 

Simon. Can get it for you, miss, if you will just mark it on this 
list, ( takes catalogue from pocket) and write your name and address 
on a card. 

Louisa. (Gravely.) "When can I have it ! 

Simon. By next week. (Aside, sighing.) "Well, IVe one order, 
anyhow ! 

Mary. (Aside to Louisa.) What are you ordering? 

Louisa. (Writing on card.) What? Why, Waverley's " Hia- 
watha"! 

Mary. (Aside to Louisa.) That is too bad ! 

Louisa. (To Simon.) There is the card. I shall depend upon 
seeing the book next week. 

Simon. (To Mary.) Do let me have an order from you, miss. 

Mary. Well, I don't mind. You can send me the volume you 
mentioned just now. 

Simon. Which one, miss ? 



THE BOOK-PEDDLER. 117 

Mart. Shakespeare's " Turco-Russian "War." 

Simon. Perhaps you will just add it to the card ? 

Mary. ( Writing on card. ) Certainly ! 

Simon. (Aside.) I'm getting on ! I was afraid I would make a 
mess of it ! (Aloud.) Can't you find anything to suit you, gen- 
tlemen ? 

Harry. Well, as the ladies have given you an order, you may 
take mine for something on your list. Have you any good histo- 
ries? 

Simon. (Aside.) Now I am sure I ought to remember that. 
History! Oh, yes ! (Aloud.) Certainly, sir. We have Dickens' 
''Conquest of China," Thackeray's " Inundation of Persia," Cole- 
ridge's " Lives of the American Emperors." (Aside.) There were 
about fifty more. (Aloud.) The latest thing is "Rome on the 
Rampage/' by Shelley. 

Harry. H'm! How about philosophy? 

Simon. Now if there is one thing above another upon which we 
do pride ourselves, it is our works on philosophy. We have every- 
thing, sir — everything! — from Plutarch's " Old Curiosity Shop" to 
Macbeth's "Astronomy." 

Harry. Have you any good biographies ? 

Simon. (Aside.) Dear me, Pm afraid I'll forget some of it, after 
all ! Biography ! Oh, I know — that's countries, travels and things. 
(Aloud.) Oh, yes, sir; we have every kind of biography, with 
full-page maps. 

Harry. Maps ! 

Simon. Yes ; all the rivers and mountains, and the volcanic val- 
leys, and— 

Harry. Oh, geography ; but I said biography. 

Simon. Oh, excuse me, Pm a little hard of hearing. 

Harry. You may bring me the history you mentioned. 

Simon. " Barnaby Rudge " ? 

Harry. No. The— (Hesitates.) 

Simon. John Wesley's "History of Patagonia " ? 

Harry. jSTo. 

Simon. Milton's "Discoveries in Japan"? 

Harry. Yes, that will do. I will pat it on your card. ( Writes.) 

Simon. I would like to sell you one of these. (Begins to collect 
looks.) 



118 THE BOOK-PEDDLER. 

John. (Aside.) I declare, it is mean to send the poor fellow away 
with that absurd card. I wonder what my bank contains ? (Exit 
John.) 

Simon. (Packing looks.) Heavy load to carry in this hot 
weather ! 

Harry. It must be. 

Simon. I always hope to sell at least one book wherever I call. 
Can't I dispose of this gem of poetical selections to you ? Why, 
the picture of Pickwick is worth the price of the volume. 

Harry. Not to-day. 

Simon. I'll attend to that order. 

Enter John. 

John. I see that "American Boy's Book" is marked two dol- 
lars? 

Simon. (Looking over hooks.) This? 

John. No ; that is a Tennyson. 

Simon. Oh, my eyes are so bad. 

John. You have it there somewhere. 

Simon. (Searching.) Green cover f 

John. No; red. 

Simon. This? 

John. Yes. I'll take that. (Gives money.) 

Simon. Thanks! (Packing satchel.) HI call in again next 
week with the ordered books, and new ones. Good morning. 

All. Good morning. (Exit Simon.) 

Harry. (Laughing.) I'd give a dollar to see the face of any 
bookseller who takes that order ! 

Mary. (Laughing. ) So would I. Did you write your real name 
and address, Lou ? 

Louisa. Of course not. Anybody could see he could not read. 

John. Well, it may be fun for you ; but I have some sympathy 
for a poor fellow trying to earn an honest living, carrying that 
heavy satchel in the sun. 

Louisa. It was a little too bad. 

Mary. Well, if he comes again, HI tell mother about the Fran- 
catelli. 

Harry. Frangipanni, you mean ! u Frangipanni's Cook-book/' 

Curtain. 



THE BUKGLAR-AXAKM. H9 



THE BUEGLAE-ALAEM. 



Mr. John Jones — A City Merchant residing in the country. 
Mrs. Jones — Very timid, and especially afraid of Burglars. 
Miss Amanda Jones— Mr. Jones' Sister. 
Mr. Henry Smith— Mrs. Jones' Brother. 
Dinah — A colored Servant. 

SCEXE.— A Sitting-room, handsomely furnished. Centre of stage, 
a table with arm-chair beside it. Bight of centre another arm- 
chair ; left of centre a lounge. In the background a large win- 
dow, that will open and shut. 

Mrs. Jones and Miss Amanda discovered, seated. 
Mrs. Jones. I can't imagine what keeps John so late ! 

Enter Dinah, with a letter. 

Dinah. Boy jes' lef ' dat ? ar, Miss Jones. 

Mrs. Jones. (Opening letter.) Oh, dear! 

Amanda. What is it, dear? Xo tronble, I hope ! 

Mrs. Jones. Xot exactly a trouble. John writes that he has 
been most -unexpectedly called to Chicago, and must leave on the 
ten-thirty train this evening ! 

Amanda. Mercy on me ! He doesn't mean to leave us alone in 
this out-of-the-way place all night ! 

Dinah. Don't yer be skeered, honey — I'll take care o' yer ! 

Mrs. Jones. Xo ; he has sent a telegram to my brother, who 
always remains in his office until late, to come over here. 

Amanda. But suppose he does not come ? 

Mrs. Jones. Oh, he will ! But, candidly, dear Amanda, I feel 
very nervous ! I wish Henry would come ! 

Amanda. How can you help it ? My heart is beating a regular 
tattoo ! 

Mrs. Jones. Dinah, go fasten the house up. Shoot every bolt 
in as far as it will go, and check it. 



120 THE BURGLAR- ALARM. 

Dinah. I will, fo' sure ! 

Mrs. Jones. Put up all the chains ! 

Dinah. Yes, missee ! 

Mrs. Jones. Double lock all the doors, and put a chair against 
every one. 

Dinah. Ki ! yi ! I'll &x ? um burglar traps. (Exit Dinah.) 

Amanda. If I was married, my husband should stay at home 
and protect me ! 

Mrs. Jones. Nonsense ! A man must attend to his business. 

Amanda. A man's first business is to protect his family, and I 
shall take occasion to tell John so, you may be sure ! 

Mrs. Jones. Yery well. 

Amanda. The whole country is fall of tramps ! There were no 
less than four beggars at the gate this very afternoon, and one of 
them stared up at every window in the house. 

Mrs. Jones. Did you see him ? 

Amanda. Of course I did ! 

Mrs. Jones. Oh, Amanda, you frighten me nearly to death ! 
You don't know anything about it, of course ; but Amanda — (in a 
low tone) the catch of that window is broken. 

Amanda. Broken! 

Mrs, Jones. Hush ! Nobody knows it bit Mr. Jones and my- 
self. There will be a man here to mend it to-morrow. 

Amanda. But suppose somebody gets in to-night f 

Mrs. Jones. (Gloomily.) I was just thinking of that very thing. 
Suppose anybody should ! 

Enter Dinah. 

Dinah. Marse Smiff done come ; jes' slammed de gate, he did ! 
S'pose you ladies feel 'nuff sight better now ! Ke ! he ! (Exit 
Dinah.) 

Mrs. Jones. I am so glad ! 

Amanda. (Simpering.) Your dear brother is so brave ! 

Enter Mr. Smith. 

Mr. Smith. How d'ye do, Jane ? How are you, Miss Amanda ? 
I just got John's telegram as I was leaving the office, and hurried 
over. 

Mrs. Jones. I am so glad. 



THE BURGLAR- ALARM. 121 

Mr. Smith. But I can't stay. 

Both Ladies. Can't stay ! 

Mr. Smith. Not now ! I'll come back about — let me see — be- 
fore midnight, I hope ! But I must go over to Keenan's. Fll get 
back as soon as I can, and in the mean time— see here ! {Takes 
, burglar-alarm from^ his pocket ) I'm going to put this up. 

Mrs. Jones. "What is it? 

Mr. Smith. A burglar-alarm. (Sets it off. Both Ladies cover 
their ears, and Dinah rushes in.) 

Dinah. De lawful sakes ! what dat 'ar ? 

Mr. Smith. Dat Vs a burglar-alarm, Dinah, to let you know if 
there are thieves coming into the house. 

Dinah. Jes' so ! (Aside.) Done fought it was de ole Mck's rat- 
tle, 'deed did I ! 

Mr. Smith Now the easiest way to get into this house, when 
we except the doors, which you will bolt, of course, is at this win- 
dow. I've come in this way many a time myself. So I am go- 
ing to fasten this on here ! I can hear it at Keenan's, and can run 
across the fields in fLv& fcrinutes. 

Amanda. Surely we: shall not be afraid now ! 

Mr. Smith.. (Fastemng alarm to window.) There ! Now if any 
one raises that windo^j more than six inches, off that will go ! 

Mrs. Jones. But I wish you could stay. 

Mr. Smith. I wish- so too ; but I promised Mr. Keenan to see 
him this evening about the deed of those pasture lots. He's think- 
ing of buying them for building purposes, and John is as anxious 
to sell as I am. 

Mrs. Jones. Yes. (Sighing.) Always business. Both you and 
John away, and we left alone in this great barn of a house, miles 
away from the city, for business. 

Mr. Smith. Never mind, Jennie ; when we are all rich we will 
hire a regiment of cavalry to protect the place. Oood night ! 

Mrs. Jones. Good night, if you must go ! 

Mr. Smith. The sooner I go, the sooner I will be back again. 
Good night, Miss Amanda. 

Amanda. (Hysterically.) Goodnight! Don't leave us unpro- 
tected long. 

Mr. Smith. Not a minute longer than I can help. (Exit Mr. 
Smith.) 



122 THE BUKGLAB- ALARM. 

Dinah. It's done struck ten, Miss Jones, an' all de house am 
locked up. 

Mrs. Jones. Then we may as well retire. 

Amanda. I am sure I shall not sleep one wink. 

Mrs. Jones. Nor I. Come into my room, will you ? Dinah, 
turn off the gas. (Mrs. Smith and Amanda go out) 

Dinah. Specs Marse Smiff be comin' 'long in a little while, an' 
dis nigga neber hears nuffin after she goes asleep. He mighten 
ring de house down, an' I not hear him ! I'll jes' turn down 
de gas an' sot here a spell. (Turns out the gas. Stage in very 
dim light.) Dar, I've done turned it out ! Jes' like my clumsiness. 
(Groping about) Can't find a match! Course I can't. (Falls over 
a chair.) Break my neck de fustus t'ing I knows. (Yawns.) Sakes 
alibe, but I'se sleepy! (Sits down in arm-chair.) Beckon Marse 
Smiff '11 be 'long presently, (yawns) an' I'll hear de bell (very slow- 
ly) here— for sure — guess I'll jes' wait here in de dark a spell, an' 
— an' — ( Yawns, and drops her head back on chair, asleep. Perfect 
silence for a moment.) 

Enter Miss Amanda, in a wrapper, with her hair loose. 
Amanda. It is perfectly useless for me to try to sleep ! I will 
just sit here until I hear Mr. Smith go up the stairs. Then I can 
feel secure and rest. (Gropes her way to the sofa.) I will just re- 
cline here and think of— of— well, Tennyson ! There is nothing so 
soothing, , (yawns) when one cannot rest, as to recall the beauties 
of a (yawns) favorite poet. I'll quote a few lines, (very slowly) to 
pass — the — time, from— from— (rests her head on the sofa) from 
— the — " Lotos-eaters " — and— (yawns) soothe myself— to— to— 
(Sleeps. Perfect silence again for a moment.) 

Enter Mrs. Jones, with a wrapper on and her hair loose, stepping 

softly, 
Mrs. Jones. I hope Amanda is asleep. ' For my part, I can't 
sleep ! (Groses her way to chair near table.) I will wait here un- 
til Henry comes and speak to him before he goes up- stairs. It is 
too bad for John to go off in this way. (Yawns.) He knows I 
never can sleep when I am nervous, and I am so afraid of burg- 
lars. (Lets her head drop on the table.) I wonder if Dinah really 
did see a suspicious-looking tramp ? (Yawns.) There are so many 
now — and — (speaking slowly) they always seem to know when a 



THE BURGLAR-ALAEM. 123 

house is unprotected. I wish Henry would come. (Yawns.) I 
think I'll take a nap while I wait. (Sleeps. Silence again for a 
moment.) 

Mr. Jones. (Opening the window very little and putting his 
head in.) I guess they're all gone to bed ! Dear me, how tired I 
am ! I had half a mind.to go to a hotel when I missed the train ; 
but I can't get off now till to-morrow evening; so I might as well 
be at home. Everybody must be asleep, so I'll not ring, for the 
door must be bolted, but just creep over to a sofa and take forty 
winks till daylight. (Pushes up the window and starts the burglar- 
alarm. All three women jump up, screaming.) 

Dinah. (Rushing to the window.) I got him ! I done got him ! 
(Puts her apron over Mr. Jones' head, and drags him over the 
window-sill.) 

Mrs. Jones. (Running against Amanda.) Oh, you thieving 
wretch. 

Amanda. (Seizing Mrs. Jones.) Murder! Fire! Murder! 
Thieves ! 

Dinah. I done cotched him ! Come yere an' help me to hole 
onto him ! 

Mrs. Jones. Amanda ! 

Amanda. Jane ! 

Mrs. Jones. Dinah's got the burglar! (They rush over to 
Dinah.) 

Dinah. Hole on to his legs, Miss Jones ! I done got his head 
tied up in de apron ! 

Mr. Jones. Let me go ! let me go ! (The longer the burglar- 
alarm can be made to ring in this conversation, the better. A 
small boy, with a watchman's rattle, behind the scenes, might keep 
up the noise.) 

Amanda. Give me something to tie his legs ! 

Mrs. Jones. Take my wrapper cord ! (Gives cord.) I'll help 
you. (They tie Mr. Jones' legs, Dinah holding his head while he 
struggles and threshes his arms about.) 

Amanda. There ! (Catches one arm.) Hold his arms, Jane ! 

Mrs. Jones. (Catches the other arm.) I've got one! 

Dinah. Hole 'em fast ! I'll get a clothes line ! 

Mrs. Jones. Xo, no, don't go away! Take Miss Amanda's 
wrapper cord. (They tie Mr. Jones' hands. Bell rings noisily.) 



124 teE BURGLAR- ALARM. 

Dinah. Bars Marse Smiff ! (Exit Dinah.) 

Mrs. Jones. My brother ! 0h ; how thankful I am I 

Amanda. (Hysterically.) Our protector comes! 

Enter Dinah and Mr. Smith. 

Mr. Smith. Did I hear the burglar-alarm ? 

Mrs. Jones. Oh, yes ! Oh, Henry, we've caught him ! 

Mr. Smith. (Excitedly.) A burglar ! Why don't you have some 
light ? (Strikes a match and lights gas.) 

Amanda. My preserver ! (Faints in Mr. Smith's arms.) 

Mr. Smith. Bless me ! Here, Jane, Dinah, take her, can't you ? 
The fellow may get away. 

Dinah. I'll hole her ! (TaJces Amanda.) 

Amanda. (Recovering.) Wretch ! 

Dinah. Sho' now, Miss 'Mandy, I ain't done nuffin to yer. (All 
this time Mr. Jones must struggle and make muffled sounds, as if 
smothering in the apron.) 

Mr. Smith. (Touching Mr. Jones with his foot.) You're a nice 
specimen, now, ain't you ? 

Mr. Jones. (In a muffled voice. ) Untie me, you idiots ! 

Dinah. Poo' feller, s'pects he is half choked. 

Mrs. Jones. Oh, Henry, come away! He might have some- 
thing that will go off. 

Mr. Jones. Can't you take this thing off? 

Mrs. Jones. "What does he say ? 

Amanda. I don't know ! Oh, Jane ! Fm going to have hysterics, 
I know I am ! Oh ! oh ! 

Mr. Smith. Take Miss Amanda up-stairs, Dinah, and give her 
some brandy. 

Amanda. Brandy ! Oh, you brute ! (Sobs violently.) 

Mrs. Jones. What ought we to do now, Henry ? 

Mr. Smith. Just let him lie there till morning, and I'll go for 
the police. Tou can all retire, and I will sit here and watch him! 

Mr, Jones. (Struggling violently.) I'm John Jones ! 

Mrs. Jones. What does he say ¥ 

Mr. Smith. I can't distinguish the words, with all that cloth on 
his head. (Stoops over Mr. Jones.) I guess we might take that 
off. I have my revolver, so he can't get away, and his hands and- 
feet are tied. 



THE BURGLAR- ALARM?* 125 

Amanda. Oh, don't ! I'm sure I cannot bear the sight of the 
monster. 

Mrs. Jones. But he must be stifling, Amanda. TTe have no 
right to smother him, if he is a burglar. 

Mr. Smith. Here, Dinah, sit him up. {They lift Mr. Jones from 
the floor to a chair.) 

Mrs. Jones. You are sure he is securely tied? 

Mr. Jones. {Roaring.) Take this thing off my head ! 

Mr. Smith. Easy, now. "Who tied it ? 

Dinah. Specs I done dat 'ar, Marse SmifT! 

Mr. Smith. There are five hundred knots. Mercy on me, Jane, 
he must be half strangled ! (Mr. Jones struggles and mutters.) 

Dinah. Easy, now. I'll help, Marse SmifT! You jes' hole him 
up, an' I'll untie him ! (Mr. Smith holds Mr. Jones up, Dinah 
working at the Jmots in the apron.) 

Amanda. Oh, JaJne, what a guy you are ! 

Mrs. Jones. Look in the mirror, my dear. 

Amanda. {Trying to gather up her hair.) I was never so agi- 
tated in all my life. Suppose we had not heard the alarm ? 

Mrs. Jones. But I was here. I came down to speak to Henry 
before he went up-stairs. 

Amanda. Why, I was here too ! I came down because I was 
too nervous to sleep. Oh, Jane, we might have all been murdered 
in our beds ! 

Mrs. Jones. The wretch must have known Mr. Jones was away. 

Dinah. Dar ! Dey's all untied now, Marse SmifT. 

Mr. Smith. Let's have a look at him, then. ( Gives the apron a 
twitch.) 

Mrs. Jones. John ! 

Amanda. My brother I 

Mr. Smith. Jones ! 

Dinah. Marse Jones ! 

Mr. Jones. Come and untie me ! A nice set of idiots you are, 
ain't you, with your burglar-alarm ! 

Curtain. 

[The characters should all be in attitudes of the utmost amazement at fall of 
curtain. J 



126 MISSED HIS CHANCE. 

MISSED HIS CHANCE. 



"Walter Leigh. Sam Burton. 

Nettie Leigh. Tom Bates. 

Prof. Wilcox, John Jones. 

All the school children, boys and girls, the strength of the com- 
pany will permit 

SCENE.— A School-room, with children studying, talking in whis- 
pers, arranging desks, as if just before school-time. Walter 
and Nettie seated beside each other, right of foreground ; Sam 
Wt °f foreground ; John left of background. A teacher's desk 
centre of background. 

"Walter. (Bending over a book.) I think I have it now. I am 
not afraid of any part of the examination, excepting algebra, and 
{sighing) I am afraid I have not got a mathematical head, I do so 
hate mathematics. Now Latin is just splendid to study ! (Mut- 
ters over lesson.) 

Sam. (Aside.) I wonder where Tom is! I was dreadfully 
afraid he was hurt when he fell off the fence last night, but I did 
not dare wait to see. 

John. {Arranging books.) Forgotten my grammar ! Of course 
I have. It wouldn't be me if I didn't forget something. I'd leave 
my head somewhere if it wasn't screwed on. Walt ! Walt ! 

Walter. What is it? 

John. Lend a fellow your grammar. I don't half know the 
lesson. 

Walter. (Crossing the stage with book.) Certainly! 

John. Thanks. I didn't mean to make you come to me though, 
Walt. 

Walter. That's no matter. 

Enter Prof. Wilcox. 
Prof. Wilcox. {Taking seat at teacher's desk.) Take your 
places ! (All seat themselves.) 



MISSED HIS CHANCE. 127 

Sam. (Aside) He has found out. I see it in his eyes. 
Prof. Wilcox. Attention ! You are all aware, yonng ladies 
and gentlemen, that last week I threatened to expel from the 
school any boys again detected in orchard robbing. 
Sam. (Aside. ) I knew it ! 

Prof. "Wilcox. I consider it a disgrace to the school to have 
had so many complaints already. This morning I hear that Mr. 
Green has lost the fruit of a very valuable imported plum tree, 
one raised with great expense and care. I have a clue to the 
culprit, but I will give him one chance to confess. 
Sam. (Aside.) A clue ! I am in a cold sweat ! What can it be ? 

Prof. Wilcox. I am waiting to hear the confession ! (Perfect 
silence. ) 

Sam. (Aside.) "What can he have for a clue? If I only knew 
that ! Oh, I wish the plums were back upon the tree ! 

Prof. Wilcox. (Holding up a penknife.) Since the culprit will 
not confess his fault, I must try to find him out. Do any of you 
recognize this penknife ? 

Walter. (Standing up.) I do, sir ! It is mine. 

Prof. Wilcox. (Amazed.) Tours ! Walter Leigh!, I am sur- 
prised. If there was one boy in the school I considered entirely 
above the petty theft of orchard robbing, it was you. 

Walter. (Proudly.) Tou are right, sir. I do not covet stolen 
fruit. 

Prof. Wilcox. But this penknife was found exactly under Mr. 
Green's pet plum tree. You must have dropped it there. 

Walter. I did not, sir. Appearances are certainly against me, 
but I was not in Mr. Green's orchard last night. 

Prof. Wilcox, Ah ! I begin to see ! You had lent the knife ? 

Walter. Yes, sir. 

Prof. Wilcox. To whom ? 

Walter. I cannot say, sir. 

Prof. Wilcox. Do you mean that you do not know? 

Walter. No, sir. 

Prof. Wilcox. That you will not betray a companion ? 

Walter. Yes, sir. 

Prof. Wilcox. You hear, boys ! Walter will not expose the 
culprit; but unless he does so, I must accept the evidence before 
me, and conclude that the owner of the knife found under the tree 



128 MISSED HIS CHANCE. . 

is the thief. I will give you ten minutes to consider. (ExitTnoF. 
Wilcox. All the scholars begin to talk together in low tones, as if 
greatly excited.) 

Nettie. Oh, Walter, you will tell. 

Walter. I could not, Nettie ! It would be too mean ! 

Nettie. Not half so mean as to let you be punished for the 
sneaking boy who borrowed the knife. Who was he, Walter? 

Walter. I am afraid if I tell such an ardent little champion as 
you are, I might as well tell Prof. Wilcox. (Nettie coaxes in 
dumb show.) 

Sam. (Aside.) Will he tell ? He is sure to win the Latin prize 
at next week's examination, and perhaps one of the others. He 
certainly will tell ! I— I had better confess. But I can't ! Oh, 
if I had only let those miserable plums alone ! 

John. (Aside.) I wonder, now, if Tom knows anything about all 
this ! His mother told me he had broken his arm, and would not 
be at school for a few days ; but I was afraid of being late, and did 
not wait to hear the particulars. It looks odd ! Tom is not the 
boy to let Walter miss his examination for his fault ! I believe I 
will go and tell him. (Exit John.) 

Sam. (Aside, uneasily.) I wonder where John has gone ! Does 
he suspect anything ? 

Nettie. (To Walter.) And mamma will be so grieved, Walter, 
if you do not get even one prize. 

Walter. (Firmly.) There, Nettie, do not coax anymore! I 
will never be a traitor ! 

Enter Prof. Wilcox. All sit silent 

Prof. Wilcox. The ten minutes are over! (Perfect silence.) 
Walter Leigh, stand out in the middle of the floor. (Walter 
stands centre of stage.) I ask you for the last time, do you know 
who was in Mr. Green's orchard last night f 

Walter. (Eagerly.) No, sir, I do not, indeed. 

Prof. Wilcox. Do you know who had this knife in his posses- 
sion yesterday, and probably last night ? 

Walter. Yes, sir. 

Prof. Wilcox. Who was he ? 

Walter. I cannot tell you, sir. 

Prof. Wilcox. (Sternly.) You mean that you will not? 

Walter. Yes, sir. 



MISSED HIS CHAXCE. 129 

Prof. Wilcox. Then you must pay the penalty of your obsti- 
nacy. You are expelled ! 

Nettie. (Sobbing.) Oh, Walter, tell him! Oh, Walter! (Sobs 
violently.) Oh, why don't that dreadful mean boy tell the truth ! 

Prop. Wilcox. (Very gravely.) Take your cap, Walter, and 
go. You can return this afternoon for your books. 

Walter. Thank you, sir. (Takes his cap and goes out.) 

Nettie. He never stole the plums, never! Walter wouldn't 
touch a pin that wasn't his own. 

Prof. Wilcox. I believe that, Nettie. I am forced to keep 
my word and expel the boy who appears to be the thief; but I re- 
spect Waiter Leigh far more than the miserable sneak who retains 
his place by his cowardly silence. First class in reading. (Sev- 
eral scholars stand up.) 

Sam. I am all in a shiver. Tom may confess when he is here, 
but I think he must be hurt. 

Enter Tom, with his arm in a sling , J ohx following him. 

Tom. (Breathlessly.) Oh, if you please, Professor Wilcox— 
(Stops as if out of breath. ) 

Prof. Wilcox. You are late, Bates ! What is the matter with 
your arm? 

Tom. (Still panting.) I broke it, sir, last night! 

Prof. Wilcox. Are you able to be out ? 

Tom. The doctor told me to keep quiet, and I was not coming 
to school to-day ; but John Jones came over to tell me Walter was 
in a scrape, because he would not tell who — who — (Stops, con- 
fused. ) 

Prof. Wilcox. Who robbed Mr. Green's plum tree. Is it pos- 
sible you are the thief ? 

Tom. (As if ashamed. ) I know it was stealing, sir, but I didn't 
think of anything but the fun. I don't want the, plums much, 
and I am awfully sorry they were especially valuable— indeed I 
am ! I thought they were just common plums. 

Prof. Wilcox. But they were not your plums, if they had been 
common. 

Tom. I know ; and I won't ever steal another bit of fruit ! But 
oh, please— about Walter ! You won't punish him now ? 

Prof. Wilcox. Certainly not ! John ! 



130 MISSED HIS CHANCE. 

John. Yes, sir. 

Prof. "Wilcox. Since yon seem to like snch errands, yon may 
run after Walter and bring him back ! 

John. Thank yon, sir. Hurrah ! (John runs out.) 

Tom. Thank yon, sir. I — I suppose I am to be expelled, sir ? 

Prof. Wilcox. I will consider that. The promptness of your 
confession, and your coming forward with a broken arm, disposes 
me to be lenient this time. 

Tom. Oh, if you will overlook it, there shall never be another 
time. 

Prof. Wilcox. But, Bates, it appears to me to be very poor fun 
to get up in the night to steal fruit you do not care for, alone ! 

Sam. (Aside.) Oh, murder ! I thought it was all over, and I was 
safe. 

Tom. (Confused.) I— don't— think — it — is — very — very good 
fun, sir! 

Prof. Wilcox. No. I generally detect two boys in all such ex- 
peditions. 

Tom. ( Very much embarrassed.) Do you, sir? 

Sam. Oh, I am sure it is coming now. 

Prof. Wilcox. Are you quite sure you were alone last 
night? 

Tom. I— I left home alone. 

Prof. Wilcox. Oh, you met your companion outside ? 

Tom. Please don't ! I can't tell tales. 

Prof. Wilcox. And, generally, I approve of such honorable 
silence. Once to-day I have made a mistake ; for you were absent 
when Walter was expellled ; but there is no one absent now but 
Walter and John. Both these were innocent ? 

Tom. Yes, sir. 

Prof. Wilcox. Then your companion is here ! Once more I 
give him a chance to speak. (Perfect silence.) 

Tom. (Aside.) Why don't Sam confess? 

Prof. Wilcox. I shall show no leniency now to this boy, who 
has. twice refused to speak. 

Enter Walter and John. 

Walter. Oh, Tom, thank you ! Thank you, Sam ! 
All. Sam ! 



MISSED HIS CHANCE. 131 

Prof. "Wilcox. Sam ! So, so — we have at last found the cow- 
ard ! 

Sam. (Aside.) 0h ; what shall I do ? 

"Walter. (Surprised.) Why, John, you said — 

John. The guilty party had confessed. But I meant Tom. 

Walter. But Tom would never have gone, if Sam — Oh, I 
did not mean — 

Prof. Wilcox. Tou did not mean to betray Sam ! We all un- 
derstand that ! Two honorable, truthful boys screen a cowardly 
thief! Stand up, Samuel Burton. (Sam stands up, hanging his 
head.) 

Tom. (Aside to John. ) Don't he look mean ? 

John. I bet he feels mean ! 

Prof. Wilcox. Burton, you are expelled, not only for this 
term, but for future ones. I have long thought your influence 
was a bad one. I will give you half an hour to collect your books. 
School will open again at ten o'clock. (Exit Prof. Wilcox.) 

All the Boys. Three groans for Sam Burton ! ( Three groans 
given.) 

Nettie. Let's hiss him ! (All the Girls hiss.) 

John. (Singing. Tune — " When Johnny comes marching home") 
Oh, Sam-u-el, you're in a scrape ! 

All. (In chorus.) Hurrah! hurrah! 

John. And this time you will not escape ! 

All. (In chorus.) Hurrah! hurrah! 

John. We'll march you up, we'll march you down, 
We'll all parade you into the town, 
And we'll all feel gay when 

Sammy goes marching home ! 

All. We'll all feel gay when 

Sammy goes marching home ! 

John. You've been a coward ! you've been a sneak ! 

All. Oh, dear! oh, dear! 

John. You held your tongue, with a chance to speak ! 

All. Oh, dear ! oh, dear ! 

John. We think you've a terrible future to dread, 

And you'd better go home now, and bag your head ! 

All. For we'll all feel gay when 

Sammy goes marching home 



132 THE GIKL OF THE PERIOD. 

"We'll all feel gay when 

Sammy goes marching home ! 

(All gather round Sam, two Boys talcing him by the arms, and 
making Mm lead a procession of all the others, who march after 
Mm slowly, singing the song given above.) 

Curtain. 



THE GIEL OF THE PEEIOD. 



^ ha qactejt$. 

Henry Lawton — A young gentleman. 
Lizzie Lawton — His sister. 
Fanny Graves— .4 girl of the period, 
Jane — A servant girl. 
Officer Bates— A policeman. 

SCENE — A Parlor, with modern furniture. Centre of back- 
ground a window, with the curtains drawn back. Lizzie seated, 
sewing upon a child's apron. Henry standing up, as if about 
to leave the room. 

Henry. Where is your friend, Lizzie ? 

Lizzie. She has gone out. I promised mother to finish this 
piece of work this morning, so I did not accompany her. 

Henry. I am afraid you do not enjoy this visit as much as you 
anticipated, sister. 

Lizzie. You are right. It sounds inhospitable to say so, but I 
heartily wish Fanny had never come, or would go home. 

Henry. I was very much surprised when I saw her, for I should 
have supposed your intimate friend as modest and lady-like as 
yourself. 

Lizzie. And so she was, Henry, when we were at boarding- 
school together. I never knew a sweeter girl ! But she is so 
changed, I can scarcely convince myself that it is my dear friend, 
Fanny Graves. 



THE GIRL OF THE PEEIOD. 133 

Henry. She must indeed be changed if she was ever a lady-like 
girl. She is the most astounding specimen of that horrible species, 
the fast girl, it was ever my ill-fortune to meet. 

Lizzie. I am in terror every time she goes out, for fear she will 
be insulted. Our quiet town does not understand such dress and 
actions as hers. 

Henry. I hope she will not induce you to imitate her, Lizzie. 

Lizzie. STo fear of that. Her daring really terrifies me ! 

Henry. I believe in some city circles it is considered stylish to 
be fast ; but certainly there is no charm in loud voices, vulgar 
manners and flashy dress, to a really refined person. A fast lady ! 
"Why, the very words are a contradiction to each other. 

Lizzie. I agree with you. Are you going out ? 

Henry. Not just yet. I have a letter to write for the next 
mail, and just about time to finish it. (Exit Henry.) 

Lizzie. I think Henry is quite right. I believe in my dear 
mother's teaching, that modesty is the greatest charm a young 
lady can possess. It makes me sad to see Fanny so altered ! 

Enter Fanny, dressed in an exaggeration of the prevailing fash- 
ion, very Mgli colors, very elaborate trimming, a dressy hat, 
Jcid gloves, and a great deal of jewelry. She carries a parasol 
and handkerchief 

Fanny. (Running to window, waves handkerchief) Bear fellow! 
I was sure he would follow me ! He has gone now ! 

Lizzie. (Aside.) What mischief is on foot now, I wonder ! 

Fanny. (Coming forward.) What are you doing, Lizzie ? 

Lizzie. Making an apron for Pet. 

Fanny. Before I would slave over a lot of brats, as you do ! 
Tou are as bad as those horrid Paterson girls, who dress like per- 
fect dowdies to help to educate their brothers ! 

Lizzie. They are very much respected, Fanny,-and they dress 
like ladies, in quiet good taste. 

Fanny. Quiet good taste ! All that sort of thing is quite out of 
date, I assure you ! Girls now dress to attract attention — to please 
the beaux ! 

Lizzie. It may be ! Did you have a pleasant walk, Fanny? 

Fanny. Perfectly delightful ! (Aside.) Shall I tell her ? She 
is such a horrid little nun, I'm half afraid ! 



134 THE GIRL OF THE PERIOD. 

Lizzie. It is a pleasant day. 

Fanny. Just lovely ! Everybody was out, and my dress attracted 
a great deal of attention, I assure you. 

Lizzie. I am quite sure it did. 

Fanny. Of course ! It is in the very latest style. I expect pa 
made an awful row about the bills, after I left. Ma was really 
scared to death, thinking about it ; but, as I tell her, I'll never get 
married if I shut myself up at home and dress like an old maid. 
I suppose ma has lots of rows about my bills ; but I always run 
off when I hear pa raving. 

Lizzie. But does not your father tell you what you may spend ? 

Fanny. Of course he does ! He allows us each two hundred a 
year, and there are three of us. But, of course, we know he must 
pay his bills or lose his credit, so we just buy what we please and 
have it charged. I did think Em went a little mite too far when she 
bought a diamond cross ; but it was the sweetest thing, and as we 
all wear it in turn, it wasn't so dreadfully extravagant, after all. 
But I really did think pa'd scold the roof off. We had to hide it, 
or he'd have taken it back to the jeweler ! 

Lizzie. I scarcely think I could enjoy finery obtained at such a 
cost. 

Fanny. Oh, nonsense ! Pa's got the money, only he's so horrid 
mean. Says he's being ruined by the extravagance of his family ; 
and I'm sure ma does everything to save — won't even keep a girl, 
and slaves down in the kitchen all day to save the wages of a 
Biddy. 

Lizzie. But surely you all help her ? 

Fanny. Surely we don't! Mce looking objects we would be, 
washing dishes and ironing ! "Wny, ma's face is as red as a boiled 
lobster all ironing day, and if we have more than two ruffled skirts 
apiece in the wash, you would think she was killed, she makes 
such a fuss ! 

Lizzie. I should think you would at least do your own ironing ! 

Fanny. "Well, we don't ! I saw that horrid Jenny Green this 
morning. 

Lizzie. Horrid! 

Fanny. Yes, goody, goody ! She had on the same old green 
silk she wore at school, and a sacque as old as the hills. 

Lizzie. I presume she was visiting the poor. She is a district 



THE GIRL OF THE PERIOD. 135 

visitor, and we do not go amongst the poor and suffering in gay 
dresses. 

Fanny. Then I wouldn't go at all ; poking about in nasty little 
houses, all vermin and small-pox — ugh ! I wouldn't do it for any 
money ! 

Lizzie. Tastes differ ! 

Fanny. I should think so ! I did have such a laugh this morn- 
ing. You know Clara Moore ? 

Lizzie. One of our belles ! 

Fanny. Well, she's got a new hat that is perfectly lovely, blue 
and white, the sweetest thing I ever saw. I wanted to pull it off 
her head and keep it. She came mincing up the street to me, with 
the sweetest smile, and I know she thought that hat would take 
all the conceit out of me. So I just thought to myself, " I'll take 
the starch out of you, my lady !" and I smiled as sweetly as she 
did, and said, " Why, how came you to get your new hat in last 
year's shape?" You should have seen her face come down. 
" Last year's shape V 9 said she. " Why, yes ; we don't wear them 
in the city at all this year, and the milliner has put the trimming 
a great deal too low ! And, don't be offended, but don't you think 
you're a little sallow to wear so trying a shade of blue ?" and then 
I sailed on. She may be standing there yet. for all I know. 

Lizzie. But if the hat was really pretty and becoming, why did 
you want to mortify her ? 

Fanny. My dear, she looked so perfectly lovely, I wanted to 
tear her eyes out ! I wish crimps were out of fashion ! 

Lizzie. Why ? I thought you must admire them, you are so 
particular about yours. 

Fanny. But they make my head ache fit to split. It takes me 
an hour to put mine up, and I can't half sleep, they are so tight ! 
{Sitting doicn.) And, talking of tight things, these boots nearly 
murder me ! 

Lizzie. Why don't you take them off? 

Fanny. I am going out. 

Lizzie. Again ! 

Fanny. (Aside.) Oh, I must tell her! (Aloud.) Yes, I've had 
an adventure ! 

Lizzie. Indeed! 

Fanny. (Enthusiastically.) Such a charming adventure ! I 



136 THE GIRL OF THE PERIOD. 

was walking down President Street, and I thought I would go into 
Smith and Brown's and price those cute little lockets in the 
window, when just as I was going in I saw, oh, such a love of a 
man ! He had the most bewitching moustache ! and the most 
magnificent black eyes ; and he was looking at me ! I just looked 
in the window again till he came quite near, and then I smiled. 

Lizzie. Fanny ! 

Fanny. And he smiled. 

Lizzie. Oh, Fanny — not a perfect stranger ! 

Fanny. Pshaw ! dont be such an old maid ! I dropped my 
glove and he picked it up, with such a bow ! 

Lizzie. (Aside.) Oh, I didn't think she would go to such a length ! 

Fanny. Then I went into the store, and he looked in at the win- 
dow ! I knew he wanted to see me, so I went to the very front 
counter, and looked at lockets, and we had a regular handkerchief 
flirtation. He told me he was dying to know me, and adored me ! 

Lizzie. Hid he dare to speak to you? 

Fanny. No ; I told you it was a handkerchief flirtation ; and 
when I left the store he followed me, and passed the house. I 
just waved my handkerchief to him, and he signaled me, " We 
shall meet again P 

Lizzie. This is dreadful ! 

Fanny. I am going up to my room to put on another bracelet, 
and then I am going down town again. (Exit Fanny.) 

Lizzie. What shall I do ! Mother and father are both out, and 
Fanny would never pay any attention to me ! 

Enter Henry, with a glove. 

Henry. Can you mend my glove for me, Lizzie ? (Bell rings.) 
Why, sister, what is the matter ? Tou appear to be troubled. 

Lizzie. Don't question me, Henry, please ; but do please help 
me to keep Fanny from going out again to-day. 

Enter Jane. 

Jane. There is a man at the door, sir, wants to see the gentle- 
man of the house. 

Henry. Since father is out, I must go. Say I will be there in a 
moment, Jane. 

Jane. Yes, sir. (Exit Jane. ) 



THE GIRL OF THE PERIOD. 137 

Henry. Mend my glove for me, like a good little sister, while I 
am gone. (Exit Henry.) 

Lizzie. I hope Fanny will not go ont before he comes back. I 
cannot tell him my reason ; bnt I know he will trust me enough to 
be sure there is some good one why I wish Fanny to stay at home. 

Enter Henry, followed by Officer Bates. 

Henry. Tou see, officer, there is no one here but my sister. 

Officer Bates. (Stepping to window.) I am sure this is the 
house and the window. 

Henry. And I am sure you are mistaken. 

Officer Bates. (To Lizzie.) Didn't you have a visitor in here 
just now ? 

Henry. (Hotly.) Tou shall not insult my sister by inquiring if 
she receives shop-lifters. I tell you you are mistaken, and over- 
stepping your duty. 

Officer Bates. I'll offer every apology, sir, if I am ; but I'd 
like to ask the young lady a question or two. 

Lizzie. Oh, Henry, what is the matter ? 

Henry. Why, this man insists that he saw a shop-lifter at one 
of our windows, and has orders to arrest her. 

Lizzie. (Haughtily.) Oh, is that all ! Of course he will be con- 
vinced of his mistake. 

Officer Bates. Will you swear, miss, there wasn't no one at 
that window ? 

Lizzie. There has been no one in this room to-day but the in- 
mates of our own house. 

Officer Bates. Well, I am puzzled for once. Fm sure I don't 
want to make trouble, miss ; but you see Smith and Brown have 
lost a great deal of valuable jewelry lately over the counter. 

Lizzie. (Aside. ) Smith and Brown ! 

Officer Bates. And I was put on special duty to watch the 
store. 

Henry. (Impatiently.) Come, make a short story of it, if you 
please. 

Officer Bates. Fve got to satisfy myself, sir. As I said, I am 
on special duty to watch the store. Well, this morning when I 
was lounging on the other side of the street, I saw a young lady 
come sailing along, with just the flashy finery on that the city shop- 



138 THE GIRL OF THE PERIOD. 

lifters wear, all jewelry and ruffles, and I'll be bio wed if she didn't 
stop right at Smith and Brown's window ! 

Lizzie. (Aside.) Oh, I am afraid I shall faint ! 

Officer Bates. Just at that moment I spied one of the most 
slippery thieves in town coming down towards her — one of the swell 
fellows, that wear diamond studs, and give the police no end of 
trouble — and if he didn't smile at that girl, I'm a Dutchman ! 

Henry. (Aside to Lizzie.) "Why do you tremble so ? The man has 
made a mistake — disagreeable, of course, but he cannot trouble us ! 

Officer Bates. So I just kept my eye on the pair of them, and 
the girl walked into the shop, asked to see a tray of lockets, and 
kept up a series of signals with her partner outside. 

Lizzie. (Aside to Henry.) Keep Fanny out of the room. Don't 
stop to ask questions now. 

Henry. But she is out. 

Officer Bates. Of course I followed them, and the girl came 
in here, and signalled her partner out of that window. 

Henry. You are entirely mistaken. 
Enter Fanny. 

Officer Bates. Why, there she is now ! (To Fanny.) You 
are my prisoner ! 

Fanny. How dare you ! 

Officer Bates. I arrest you on charge of Smith and Brown for 
shop -lifting ! 

Fanny. (Screaming.) Oh, what does he mean? 

Henry. Officer, a word with you. (Takes Officer to lack- 
ground.) 

Fanny. (Sooting.) Oh, Lizzie, what does that horrid man 
mean? 

Lizzie. He means that the Adonis with whom you were carry- 
ing on a handkerchief flirtation this morning was a notorious thief, 
and you were supposed to be stealing lockets for his benefit, while 
he watched your operations through the store window. 

Fanny. (Sobbing and clinging to Lizzie.) Oh, Lizzie, he cannot 
really arrest me, can he ? 

Lizzie. Don't sob so ! I hope Henry will persuade him that he 
is mistaken. (Tries to comfort Fanny.) 

Henry. (Coming forward.) Lizzie, can you give any explanation 
of this? 



THE GIRL OF THE PERIOD. 139 

Lizzie. I think so ! (Aside to Henry. ) Do try to soothe her. 
(Goes hack and converses with Officer Bates.) 

Henry. I am very sorry you have beek subjected to such 
annoyance while visiting us, Miss Fanny. 

Fanny. (Sodding.) It is all my own folly. Oh, if 1 can only get 
out of this scrape, I will never, never do anything fast again as 
long as I live ! 

Henry. You will certainly be the gainer, then, even by such a 
disagreeable experience as this. 

Fanny. I shall die if he arrests me ! Oh, Mr. Lawton, can't I 
bribe him to go away? I know pa will pay any money to avoid 
such a disgrace ! 

Henry. You may be sure we will do everything in our power to 
protect you ! 

Officer Bates. (Coming forward.) Well, miss, as I know Mr. 
Lawton, and can come in again if necessary, I won't do any 
more about it now. (To Fanny.) But I just want to give you a 
word of advice, miss. I've been fifteen years on the force, and I 
know what I'm talking about. If you want to keep out of trouble, 
you'd better take off some of them fallals you're wearing, and not 
be quite so ready to speak to strange men in the street. 

Enter Jane. 

Jane. There's a very fine gentleman at the door, Miss Lawton, 
with black hair on his lip, and he's asking if he can see the lady 
that lives here that wears — (describes Fanny's dress.) 

Fanny. Tell him no ! Tell him to go away ! 

Officer Bates. That's my man ! (Exit Officer Bates, hur- 
riedly.) 

Henry. (Looking out of window.) There they go. The officer 
has arrested him ! 

Fanny. Oh, Lizzie, I shall never be able to look anybody in the 
face again! (Sods.) 

Lizzie. Oh, yes, you will ! (Exit Jane.) 

Henry. Be sure we will both keep your secret, Miss Fanny, and 
I think no one else knows it. I will call in at Smith and Brown's 
as I go down town. Mr. Smith is an old friend of father's, and 
will, I am sure, respect any confidential statement I make. (Exit 
Henry.) 



140 THE PHOTOGRAPH GALLERY. 

Fanny. How you must despise me ! 

Lizzie. No. I think now my old friend, Fanny, I have loved 
so well, has come back to me, and I shall never again see— the 
girl of the period ! 

Curtain. 



THE PHOTOGEAPH GALLEEY. 



John Dattbttm, > _, . 7 
^ ~ ' {Photographers. 

KOBERT SlTTUM, ) * * 

Miss Sophonisba Perkins — An Old Maid. 

Chloe— A Colored Woman. 

Pat — An Irish Boy. 

Mrs. Montmorency Howard. 

Montmorency Howard — Her Son, a hoy of six or seven. 

SCENE. — A Boom, furnished Mice a Parlor in foreground. Cen- 
ire of background, facing audience, a large chair upon a plat- 
form; opposite this a camera, covered ivith black cloth ; left of 
background a door. John reading a newspaper; Kobert hold- 
ing up a picture to the light. 

John. {Yawning.) "What are you doing? 

Kobert. Copying ! Got to do something ! 

John. Y-e-e-s. People down, this way don't seem to care par- 
ticularly about perpetuating their classic features. 

Robert. As we've taken the room for a month, we're bound to 
stay, I suppose ; but I imagine we shall not find ourselves million- 
aires when we leave. 

John. Luckily the month's rent is paid ; but there is a fair and 
encouraging prospect of starving to death. 

Eobert. {Suddenly and dramatically.) I hear a step upon the 
stairs ! {Bushes to background, and into the doorway at left.) 

John. If it should be a customer ! 



THE PHOTOGRAPH GALLERY. 141 

Enter Miss Sophonisba Perkins, very absurdly dressed. A very 

scraggy boy, with thin arms and shoulders, and big feet, dressed 

in a low-necked, short sleeved, short-skirted dress, is best suited 

to this part. Wears hat and shawl on entering. 
(John rises and bows.) Good morning, inadame ! 

Sophonisba. {Severely.) Miss Perkins, sir! 

John. Can I serve you, Miss Perkins ? 

Sophonisba. Observing in the periodical appertaining to our 
municipality your advertisement concerning the delineation of the 
human physiognomy, I have called to ascertain the possibility of 
obtaining a representation of my features, for {simpering) a gift to 
a friend. 

John. {Briskly.) Ah, yes! locket size? 

Sophonisba. {As if confused.) Well, yes. I think a locket 
would be an appropriate enclosure. 

John. Oh, decidedly ! We always take young ladies in vignette 
in a locket. {Aside.) Good chance to work off some of those lockets 
we've had so long. 

Sophonisba. And the remuneration ! 

John. Yery trifling ! Miniature style, gold locket, for— well, 
{confidentially) if you will allow us to retain a copy, {winks aside) 
we will say five dollars. 

Sophonisba. Yery satisfactory. Can I sit to-day? 

John. H'm ! I must consult my partner. Our rush of business 
is so great— that— ahem ! Mr. Sittum ! 

Robert. {Coming forward.) Did you call me? 

John. "Will you be kind enough to consult our engagement book, 
and see if it will be possible for us to give Miss Perkins a sitting 
to-day? 

Robert. {Doubtfully.) To-day! lam afraid— but I will see. 
{Opens an enormous ledger on table.) IPm ! Capt. Jones at ten, 
Judge Hopkins, ten-thirty, Mrs. General Smith, eleven— {Mum- 
bles, as if reading names.) We might get one sitting in now, Mr. 
D auburn, but not later in the day. 

Sophonisba. Apprehending such a possibility, I attired myself 
accordingly. {Removes hat and shawl.) 

John. {Aside. ) "Wnat a fine anatomical study of the shoulders I 
{Aloud.) Mr. Sittum, will you pose Miss Perkins ? 

Robert. {Bustling to background.) This way, Miss Perkins. 



142 THE PHOTOGRAPH GALLERY. 

John. (Going to camera.) Full face, three-quarters, or profile? 

Sophonisba. My profile has been frequently eulogized. 

Robert. Three-quarter face, in my opinion, is most satisfactory. 
(During dialogue Robert poses Miss Perkins, standing off to 
observe effects, altering position, and imitating a photographer. 
Miss Perkins' attitu^ks must be extremely affected, and her face 
simpering.) 

John. (Looking through camera.) Perfect ! Sit perfectly still ! 
(Robert brings fmme from open doorway, which is slipped in. 
John covers camera.) Now, Miss Perkins, look at me. 

Sophonisba. (Dropping her eyes, affectedly.) Oh, I couldn't! 

John. At this, then. (Tapping curtain.) 

Sophonisba. T. will raise my orbs heavenward ! (Bolls up her 
eyes.) 

John. (Talcing out watch.) Do not move ! (Twitches off cloth.) 
So ! that will do ! (Replaces cloth.) 

Robert. That should be a fine picture! (Takes frame out, and 
through door, left.) 

Sophonisba. (Languidly. ) It is very fatiguing ! 

John. Delicate people often find it so. But there is no gift so 
valuable as the portrait of a beloved Mend. 

Sophonisba. (Simpering.) So I am assured — by — by — (con- 
fusedly) the friend who urged me to sit. 

Robert. (Calling from doorway.) Yery satisfactory! Miss 
Perkins can see a proof to-morrow. 

Sophonisba. Oh ! can I not see one now ? 

John. Quite impossible ! We never show a negative. 

Sophonisba. (Putting on hat and shawl.) I will call, then, to- 
morrow. Good morning. 

John. Good morning. (Exit Miss Perkins.) 

Robert. (Coming forward.) Gone? 

John. Yes. "What does the negative look like ? 

Robert. A dying duck in a thunderstorm ! But we can touch 
it up with plenty of gold on the ear-rings and necklace. Wasn't 
she a dose ? 

Enter Chloe. 

Chloe. Sarvint, massa. Is dis yere de place whar dey takes 
potumgraphses ? 
John. This is the place- 



THE PHOTOGRAPH GALLERY. 143 

Chloe. Hi ! yi ! massa ! Can yer take my potumgrap ? 

Kobert. Certainly! 

Chloe. Fur a dollar ? 

John. H'm — 

Chloe. Ain't got nudder red cint ! 'Gar for gracious I ain't! 

Kobert. Well, we will oblige you this time ; but you must prom- 
ise not to mention how cheap we took the picture. 

Chloe. Keep my mouf close shet as a rat-trap ! 

John. Come back here. (Each sitting must include the regular 
motions of two photographers posing and taking the sitter, while 
the dialogue goes forward.) 

Chloe. (Talcing off hat and shaivl.) De lawful sakes ! What- 
ebber'll my ole man say, to see me a-grinnin' at him outen a pic- 
tur. Hi ! dis yere's fun ! (Cuts a caper.) 

Eobert. Sit here, if you please. 

Chloe. Sartin, marse ! (Looks at camera.) Hi! What dat 'ar? 
(Uneasily.) Dat 'ar go off, marse ? 

John. No. It looks like a cannon. You may look through it, 
if you wish ! 

Chloe. (Looking through camera.) What dat gemman a-stand- 
in' on his head for % Better git down, marse. All yer brains run 
outen de top o' yer skull bone. (Looks out.) Hi ! Got down 
already. You'se a reg'lar circus fellow, you is, gettin' down offen 
yer head like dat. 

Kobert. Now, if you will sit here, we will take your picture. 

Chloe. (Sitting down.) Hi ! Done specs I'll do dat 'ar. (Stares 
forward with a broad grin.) 

John. Don't smile so much. 

Chloe. (Shutting mouth tightly. ) Jes 's you say, marse. 

Kobert. Oh, that is too glum. Put on a pleasant expression. 

John. Think of something you are fond of. Your husband. 

Chloe. De lawful sakes ! Guess you don't know my ole man, 
marse ! 

John. Well, your children. 

Chloe. Hi ! yi ! ain't got none ! 

Kobert. Well, what are you fond of? 

Chloe. Well, dafs bacon, an' 'lasses, an' greens, an' lump sugar 
— awful fond o' lump sugar, marse. 

Kobert. Well, think of lump sugar, then. 



144 THE PHOTOGRAPH GALLERY. 

Ohloe. Heap rather see some. 

John. Come, I am waiting. 

Chloe. Pse all ready. (Grins again.) 

John. Guess that will do. (Takes picture as before.) There. 
ISTow you may get up. 

Chloe. Done froo a'ready ? 

John. Yes ; you can have the picture to-morrow. 

Chloe. You specs I'm gwine to pay you a dollar for jes dat 'ar? 
(Robert takes picture to doorway, as before.) 

John. Certainly. 

Chloe. You mus' tink dis nigga a fool ! 'Whar's yer paint an 
fixin's? 

John. Oh, we'll paint it all for you. 

Chloe, Yaller gown, an' blue apron, an' red beads, and purple 
ear-rings ? 

John. Yes— yes— come to-morrow. 

Chloe. (Putting on hat and shawl.) Now, you mine, I don't pay 
no dollar 'less dar's lots o' red an' blue on dat 'ar potumgrap. . 

John. All right. 

Chloe. Good morning, marse ! (Raising voice.) Good morn- 
ing, t'udder marse, in de closet ! 

Robert. Good morning J (Exit Chloe.) 

John. (Calling.) How is it, Bob? 

Robert. (Coming forward.) First rate. You can see every tooth 
in her head. 

John. Be sure you put on plenty of paint. 

Robert. Trust me for that ! 

Enter Pat. 

Pat. Oh, be jabbers, is this where you got picthers took now ? 

John. This is the place. 

Pat. Fur a quarther ? 

Robert. Yes. 

Pat. (Fishing in his pocket.) Ye'd betther take the quarther 
thin, now, for there's a pop-gun in the shop down-stairs that's 
moighty timpting intirely. I had to shut me eyes an' rush up sud- 
den. But I promised me mither I'd have me picther took for the 
birthday of her, an' Pat Maloney ; 11 niver go back on his word. So 
you'd better take the quarther, as I was savin'. (Gives John a 



THE PHOTOGRAPH GALLERY. 145 

handful of pennies.) Here's two more ! (goes in another pocket) 
an' one more ! ( In another pocket.) Och, here's three I'd clane 
forgot — (in another pocket) an' here's two I stowed away las' 
night. Jest be a-conntin' ov thim, will ye ? (Searching every 
pocket.) 

John. (Counting.) Ten — twelve — fifteen — seventeen — nineteen 
— twenty-one — there are only twenty -two ! 

Pat. (Scratching his head.) Twinty-two, is it? There was 
twenty-foive ! Oh, me mimory's lavin' me ! There was a rap- 
scallion of a three-pinny bit— jist the laistest mite of a piece — an' 
I was afraid I'd a hole to match it in one o' me pockets, so I pnt 
it in here. (Takes off one shoe and looks in it.) Oh, be jabbers, it's 
the ither one, now ! (Takes off the other shoe and finds three cent 
piece.) There you are, sir. 

John. (Gravely.) Quite correct. "Will you step back ? 

Pat. Back ! Is it down-stairs again ? 

Kobert. No, no ! Come over here. (Leads the way to sitter's 
chair.) 

Pat. Och ! Is that the place ? 

John. Do you want to be taken standing or sitting ? - 

Pat. Any way to suit. Sitting's aisier ! I guess I'll sit here like 
a lord ! (Sits bolt upright in chair.) 

Kobert. Don't sit so stiffly ! 

Pat. (Suddenly collapsing at every joint.) So? 

John. Bless me, no ! Tou look like a sack of meal. 

Eobert. (Posing Pat.) So, easily. (Picture taken as before.) 

John. That will do ! 

Pat. See the loike o' that ! Is it done ? 

John. It will be ready to-morrow. 

Pat. Sure ? 

John. Sure ! Come about noon. 

Pat. All right. Good morning! (Exit Tat.) 

John. Business is certainly looking up, Bob. 

Kobert. (Coming forward.) I guess that last advertisement did 
it. I put in a pathetic appeal to relatives who must succumb to 
the dread destroyer, to leave their pictures to console their weeping 
friends — quoted a little poetry, too. 

John. Hark ! "Was not that a carriage ? 

Kobert. (Looking from window.) A carriage it is ! Two horses, 



146 THE PHOTOGRAPH GALLERY. 

coachman, and footman in livery. Lady and boy alighting, and — 
coming in here ! 
John. Business certainly is looking up ! 

Enter Mrs. Howard and Montmorency ; Montmorency hangs 
back, his mother pulling him. 

Mrs. Howard. ( Wlw is very richly dressed.) Come, my angel, 
come — have his picture taken for his dear mamma. 

Montmorency. ( Whining.) Don't want to ! 

Mrs. Howard. Mamma's own little popsey wopsey ! He will 
come like a sweet little cherub. 

Montmorency. "What '11 you give me, if I do? 

John. (Aside to Eobert.) Here's work for one day ! 

Eobert. {Aside to John.) Isn't he a nice cub? 

John. (To Mrs. Howard.) Good morning, madame ! 

Mrs. Howard. Good morning. I wish to obtain a picture of 
my darling boy. I am sure you never had a more beautiful sub- 
ject ! 

John. A fine little fellow. Come, my little man, take a seat 
over here. 

Montmorency. I won't! 

Mrs. Howard. Oh, my darling, that isn't a pretty way to speak 
to the gentleman ! 

Montmorency. Don't care. Ain't going to have my picture taken! 

Mrs. Howard. Oh, my angel, do ! 

Montmorency. What'll you give me ? 

Mrs. Howard. Anything! 

Montmorency. A fairy book ? 

Mrs. Howard. Yes, yes ! a beautiful one ! 

Montmorency. "Won't have my picture taken for an old fairy 
book. Give me a tool box ? 

Mrs. Howard. Yes, dear, a lovely tool box ! 

Montmorency. And a velocipede ? 

Mrs. Howard. Yes, my lovey, a big velocipede. 

Montmorency. Don't want one ! I want twenty pounds of 
cream candy. 

Mrs. Howard. But, my angel, it will make you sick. 

Montmorency. (Howling.) It won't ! I won't have my picture 
taken, then ! 



THE PHOTOGRAPH GALLERY. 147 

Eobert. (Aside to John.) I know what I would give him. 

John. (Aside to Eobert.) My fingers are tingling to commence 
now! 

Mrs. Howard. Oh, mamma's lovesey dovesey, do sit for a pic- 
ture. (Pretends to cry.) Mamma's crying for a picture of her own 
little toodleums. 

Montmorency. Don't care ! 

Mrs. Howard. Marnma'll buy him two lovely tarts. 

Montmorency. (Contemptuously.) Two! 

Mrs. Howard. And some sour balls. 

Montmorency. I'll tell you what ! Give me five dollars to 
spend just as I please, and I'll have my picture taken. 

Mrs. Howard. But, my pretty pet— 

Montmorency. Five dollars, or I won't sit ! 

Mrs. Howard. Well, I will. 

Montmorency. Now I won't sit till you give it to me. 

Mrs. Howard. (Opening purse.) There ! (Gives money.) Now 
he will sit like mamma's own precious angel. 

Montmorency. You've got to come too. 

Mrs. Howard. Yery well. (All go to background. Robert 
poses Mrs. Howard, with Montmorency standing beside her. 

John. So ! A lovely group. (Removes cloth.) 

Montmorency. (Jumping up.) Oh, there's a fly on you, ma ! 

John. Another plate, if you please, Mr. Sittum. This one is 
spoiled. You must keep still, young gentleman. 

Montmorency. I won't if I don't choose. 

Mrs. Howard. Oh, my dear, the gentleman can't get a pretty 
picture of mamma's pet if he don't keep still. (Eobert arranges 
group.) 

John. (Removing cloth.) Now, don't move. 

Montmorency. Atchoo ! atchoo ! (Sneezes violently.) 

John. (Impatiently.) We shall never obtain a likeness, at this 
rate ! 

Montmorency. (Whimpering.) I can't help sneezing. 

Mrs. Howard. No, my darling, mamma knows he can't help it. 
(To John.) Try again, if you please. You shall be amply remu- 
nerated for your time and trouble. (Dramatically.) No expense 
is too great, if only I can have a satisfactory likeness of my dear 
little angel. 



148 THE PHOTOGRAPH GALLERY. 

John. {Politely.) "We are generally very successful with children, 
madame. But it is impossible to obtain a likeness unless the sit- 
ter keeps perfectly motionless. 

Mrs. Howard. I think he will keep still this time. Ton will 
be still— won't you, popsey wopsey? 

Montmorency. {Sulkily.) I s'pose so. (Robert arranges group, 
Montmorency scowls and frowns.) 

John. Oh, that will never do! Put on a pleasant expression, 
my little man. 

Montmorency. I won't for you ! 

Mrs. Howard. Oh, do smile, my love. (To John.) His smile 
is so cherubic ! 

John. Come, little man, look bright. 

Montmorency. (Looking a little more cheerful.) "Well, do hurry 
np, then! 

John. That is better. (Removes cloth.) 

Montmorency. Oh ! oh ! 

Mrs. Howard. What is the matter, my pet ? 

John. Another plate mined. 

Montmorency. Oh, there's a pin running into my neck ! Oh ! 
oh! 

Mrs. Howard. (Anxiously.) Come here, love! (Examines 
Montmorency's neck.) There is no pin there, lovey— only a little 
starched end of your collar. There ! that is all right, isn't it? 

Montmorency. (Sulkily. ) Yes ; you may just tell that Susan I'll 
stick a pin in her if she starches my collar that way again. (Rob- 
ert arranges group.) 

John. (Aside.) If I could only have that imp alone for five 
minutes ! 

Mrs. Howard. Lean upon me, Monty ! There, put your head 
on my shoulder. 

John. Very effective ! ISTow. (Bemoves cloth). 

Montmorency. Ah ! ( Yawns very widely.) 

Mrs. Howard. Oh, Monty ! Monty ! 

John. I'm afraid we will have to give it up, madame. 

Montmorency. (Whining.) "Well, I can't help gaping. I'm 
most tired to death with the old picture. 

Mrs. Howard. Oh, do— do try once more ! (Robert arranges 
group.) 



THE PHOTOGRAPH GALLERY. 149 

John. Now keep still one moment. {Removes the cloth* Mont- 
morency puts something in his mouth. ) 

Kobert. Ruined again. 

Montmorency. {Chewing and swallowing hastily.) It is only a 
bit of candy. 

John. But you must not eat candy when you are sitting for your 
picture. 

Montmorency. I guess I shan't ask you when I may eat candy ! 

Mrs. Howard. Perhaps he will sit better alone ! Won't you, 
treasure ? 

Montmorency. I don't know. 

Mrs. Howard. Standing tires him. (Rising.) Here, poppet, 
sit down in this nice chair. 

Montmorency. (Kicking his legs.) "Well, go ahead. 

John. Keep your legs still. 

Montmorency. (Moving hands.) All right. 

John. You must not move your hands. 

Montmorency. (Sitting very erect and stiff.) Oh, do hurry up! 
I'm tired to death. 

John. (Removing cloth.) That will do. (Sound of music behind 
the scenes. ) 

Montmorency. Oh, there's the band ! (Rushes out.) 

Mrs. Howard. Monty ! Monty ! Oh, he has gone ! 

John. (Drily.) So it appears! 

Robert. I am afraid you will never get his picture. 

Mrs. Howard. (Haughtily.) I am sure artists who understand 
their business would have no difficulty whatever in obtaining a 
beautiful picture, but I shall wait now until my next visit to the 
city. I might have known country photographers would not suc- 
ceed ! (Sails out majestically.) 

John. Whew! 

Robert. I think if I could give that cub one good thrashing, I 
could die happy ! 

John. (Looking from window.) There he is on a lamp-post, 
looking at the band, and his mother trying to coax him to come 
down. 

Robert. "Well, I'll just print of! the pictures we have taken. 

John. And I will wait for customers. 
Curtain. 



150 THE ELOCUTION CLASS. 

THE ELOCUTION CLASS. 



$ h a t a c t e q $ . 
Prof. Loud voice— Teacher of Elocution. 
James, 
Thomas, 
John, 
Kobert, 
Henry, 



> jBTis Pupils, 



SCENE.— .4 Sitting-roomy with the seats arranged to leave a 
space in the centre for the speaker during recitations. James 
reading, John looking out of window, Henry drawing on a 
slate, Kobert lounging on a chair, doing nothing. 
James. Professor coming, John ? 
John. {Looking out) I don't see anything of him. 
Henry. It has struck three. 

Eobert. I hope he won't stay away to-day, of all days ! 
James. I wish he never came. I hate elocution! 
John. So do I. A fellow feels awfully foolish standing up be- 
fore a lot of strange people, swinging his arms about and shouting: 
{Burlesquing.) 

u Angels and ministers of grace defend us ! 
Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damn'd, 
Bring with thee airs from heaven, or blasts from hell, 
Be thy intents wicked or charitable, 
Thou com'st in such a questionable shape 
That I will speak to thee !" {Strikes attitude.) 
Eobert. Bravo ! That's not half so bad as doing the pathetic. 
{Burlesquing.) 

" Thou canst not speak of what thou dost not feel ; 
Wert thou as young as I, Juliet, thy love 
An hour but married, Tybalt murdered, 
Boating like me, and like me banished, 
Then mightst thou speak, then mightst thou tear thy hair, 
And fall upon the ground, as I do now, {Standing.) 
Taking the measure of an unmade grave !" 



THE ELOCUTION CLASS. 151 

Henry. Why don't you fall % 

Kobert. Got my best clothes on, and the floor is dusty. 
Henry. I think the worst of all is the martial business. (Bur- 
lesquing.) 

"A thousand hearts are great within my bosom ; 
Advance our standard, set upon our foes ; 
Our ancient word of courage, fair Saint George, 
Inspire us with the spleen of fiery dragons ! 
Upon them ! Yictory sits on our helms V 
Thomas. !Now I like that sort of thing. But I could never do 
the lackadaisical. (Burlesquing.) 

" She never told her love, 
But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, 
Feed on her damask cheek ; she pin'd in thought ; 
And with a green and yellow melancholy 
She sat (like patience on a monument) 
Smiling at grief!" 
James. It is to be hoped she didn't grin like that ! 
Thomas. I'll ask next time I see her. 

James. Well, I hate them all : pathetic, dramatic, lovelorn and 
patriotic. The only poetry I ever cared to learn was in a song. I 
like a real rattling one, like "The Bowld Soldier Boy." (Sing- 
ing.) 

" Oh, there's not a trade that's going 
"Worth showing or knowing, 
Like that from glory growing, 

For a bowld sojer boy \ 
Where right or left we go, 
Sure you know friend or foe 
Will have the hand or toe 

From the bowld sojer boy ! 
There's not a town we march thro', 
But ladies, looking arch thro' 
The window-panes, will sarch thro' 

The ranks to find their joy. 
While up the street each girl you meet, 
With look so sly, will cry, * My eye ! 
Oh, isn't he a darling, the bowld sojer boy V " 
All. Oh, isn't he a darling, the bowld sojer boy ! 



152 THE ELOCUTIOK CLASS. 

Henry. But, like' it or not, we've all got to recite something at 
the exhibition. 

James. And that will be next Wednesday. 

John. And we were all to select our recitations for the Profes- 
sor to hear them to-day. 

Robert. Oh, he will surely come. 

Thomas. He has a long walk, remember. 

James. What have you learned, Tom ? 

Thomas. " Kienzfs Address to the Roman Citizens." I like 
something that gives a fellow a chance to air his dramatic talent. 

Henry. If he happens to have any. What are you going to re- 
cite, James ? 

James. {Lugubriously.) "The Exile of Erin I" 

John. Hurrah for Jim ! Erin go bragh ! What is yours, Bob ? 

Robert. Tennyson's " Charge of the Light Brigade." 

John. Well, you are modest ! 

Robert. Might as well spread yourself on something tip-top ! 

James. What's your choice, John ? 

John. Oh, I like something funny ! I'm going to recite one of 
Bon Gaultier's parodies. 

James. I suppose Henry has something touching and sentimen- 
tal. 

Henry. Oh, I like what our old colored cook calls a mixtry. I'm 
going to give you pathos and humor stirred into one bowl. 

James. Where can the Professor be ? 

Enter Prof. Loudvoice. 

Prof. Loudvoice. Good afternoon. Who is inquiring for me 
so pathetically ? 

James. I was afraid you would not come, and we should have 
to bungle through our exhibition recitations as best we could. 

Prof. Loudvoice. I should be very much disgusted, if, after a 
whole winter's tuition and study, you were to bungle, even if I 
had not come. Have you all made your selections for Wednes- 
day evening ?* 

All. Yes, sir. 

Prof. Loudvoice. Let me judge, then, how much you have 

* As this dialogue is designed to give scholars a good opportunity for fine 
speaking, there is no burlesque introduced for the following recitations. 



THE ELOCUTION CLASS. 153 

profited by my instructions. Take your seats. (All take seats.) 
I shall leave all criticism until I close the class, as I wish to hear 
each without interruption. Thomas, what is your selection f 
Thomas. u Rienzi's Address to the Roman Citizens." 
Prof. Loudvoice. Remember, all of you, the directions of Ham- 
let to the actors: "Suit the action to the word, the word to the 
action, with this special observance, that you o'erstep not the 
modesty of Nature ; for anything so overdone is from the pnrpose 
of playing, whose end, both at the first, and now, was, and is, to 
hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to Nature. " Now, Thomas, let us 
hear your selection ! Rise ! (Each, in tarn, takes the centre of 
stage, facing audience for his recitation.') 
Thomas. (Reciting.) " Friends, 

I come not here to talk. Ye know too well 

The story of our thraldom. We are slaves ! 

The bright sun rises to his course, and lights 

A race of slaves ! He sets, and his last beam 

Falls on a slave ; not such as, swept along 

By the full tide of power, the conqueror leads 

To crimson glory and undying fame ; 

But base, ignoble slaves— slaves to a horde 

Of petty tyrants, feudal despots ; lords 

Rich in some dozen paltry villages — 

Strong in some hundred spearmen — only great 

In that strange spell — a name. Each hour, dark fraud, 

Or open rapine, or protected murder, 

Cry out against them. But this very day, 

An honest man, my neighbor — there he stands — 

Was struck— struck like a dog, by one who wore 

The badge of Ursini ; because, forsooth, 

He tossed not high his ready cap in air, 

Nor lifted up his voice in servile shouts, 

At sight of that great ruffian. Be we men, 

And suffer such dishonor ? Men, and wash not 

The stain away in blood? Such shames are common. 

I have known deeper wrongs ! I, that speak to ye, 

I had a brother once, a gracious boy, 

Full of all gentleness, of calmest hope— 

Of sweet and quiet joy— there was the look 



154 THE ELOCUTION CLASS. 

Of heaven upon his face which limners give 
To the beloved disciple. How I loved 
That gracious boy ! Younger by fifteen year 
Brother at once and son ! He left my side, 
A summer bloom on his fair cheeks — a smile 
Parting his innocent lips. In one short hour 
The pretty, harmless boy was slain ! I saw 
The corse, the mangled corse, and then I cried 
For vengeance ! Rouse, ye Romans ! Rouse, ye slaves ! 
Have ye brave sons ? Look in the next fierce brawl 
To see them die ! And, if ye dare call for justice, 
Be answered by the lash ! Yet this is Rome, 
That sate on her seven hills, and from her throne 
Of beauty ruled the world ! Yet we are Romans. 
Why, in that elder day, to be a Roman 
Was greater than a king ! And once again — 
Hear me, ye walls, that echoed to the tread 
Of either Brutus ! — once again, I swear, 
The Eternal City shall be tree ! her sons 
Shall walk with princes !" {Resumes liis seat.) 
Prof. Loudvoice. Yery good, Thomas ! John, what is your 
selection ? 

John. Well, you know, Professor, I don't recite deep tragedy 
very well, so I have learned one of Aytoun's parodies, " Louis 
Napoleon's Address to his Army." 
Prof. Loudvoice. Let us hear it. 
John. (Taking centre of stage.) 

" Guards ! who at Smolensko fled — 
No — I beg your pardon — bled ! 
For my Uncle blood you've shed, 

Do the same for me. 
[Mow's the day and now's the hour, 
Heads to split and streets to scour ; 
Strike for rank, promotion, power, 
Swag, and eau de vie ! 
Who's afraid a child to kill ? 
Who respects a shopman's till ? 
Who would pay a tailor's bill? 

Let him turn and flee. 



THE ELOCUTION CLASS. 155 

Who would burst a goldsmith's door, 
Shoot a dun, or sack a store ? 
Let him arm, and go before— 
That is, follow me ! 
See, the mob, to madness riled, 
Up the barricades have piled ; 
In among them, man and child, 

Unrelentingly ! 
Shoot the men ! there's scarcely one 
In a dozen's got a gun; 
Shoot them, if the y try to run, 

With- artillery ! 
Shoot the boys ! each one may grow 
Into — of the State— a foe. 
(Meaning by the State, you know, 

My supremacy !) 
Shoot the girls, and women old : 
These may have sons, traitors bold, 
Those may be inclined to scold 

Our severity ! 
Sweep the streets of all who may 
Eashly venture in the way, 
Warning for a future day 

Satisfactory. 
Then, when still' d is every voice, 
We, the nation's darling choice, 
Calling on them to rejoice, 

Tell them — France is free /" 
Prof. Lotjdvoice. Yery well read, indeed. Just a shade less 
of energy and gesture, and you would recite tragedy very well, sir, 
in spite of your modest assertion to the contrary. 
John. (Resuming seat.) Thank you, sir. 

Prof. Lotjdvoice. Eobert, it is your turn now. What are we 
to have from you ? 

Eobert. (Rising.) Tennyson's " Charge of the Light Brigade." 
Prof. Lotjdvoice. Yery good ! Begin ! 
Eobert. " Half a league, half a league, 
Half a league onward, 
All in the valley of death 



156 THE ELOCUTION CLASS. 

Eode the six hundred. 
' Forward, the Light Brigade ! 
Charge for the guns V he said. 
Into the valley of death 

Rode the six hundred ! 

' Forward, the Light Brigade !' 
"Was there a man dismayed ? 
Not though the soldiers knew 
Some one had blundered ; 
Theirs not to make reply, 
Theirs not to reason why, 
Theirs but to do and die : 
Into the valley of death 
Eode the six hundred 

Cannon to right of them, 
Cannon to left of them, 
Cannon in front of them, 

Yolleyed and thundered : 
Stormed at with shot and shell, 
Boldly they rode, and well : 
Into the jaws of death, 
Into the mouth of hell, 

Eode the six hundred ! 

Flashed all their sabres bare, 
Flashed as they turned in air, 
Sab'ring the gunners there, 
Charging an army, while 

All the world wondered : 
Plunged in the battery smoke, 
Eight through the hue they broke 
Cossack and Eussian 
Eeeled from the sabre stroke, 

Shattered and sundered. 
Then they rode back — but not, 
Not the six hundred ! 

Cannon to right of them, 
Cannon to left of them, 



THE ELOCUTION CLASS. 157 

Cannon behind them, 

Yolleyed and thundered : 
Stormed at with shot and shell, 
While horse and hero fell, 
They that had fought so well 
Came through the jaws of death, 
Back from the mouth of hell, 
All that was left of them, 

Left of six hundred ! 

"When can their glory fade ? 
Oh, the wild charge they made ! 

All the world wondered ! 
Honor the charge they made ! 
Honor the Light Brigade ! 
Noble six hundred !" 
Prof. Loudvoice. Ah, that was very fine ! One never tires of 
such soul-stirring verse. (Kobert resumes his seat.) JSTow, Henry ! 
Henry. I studied something in an old volume of " Household 
Words/' sir, " The Dirty Old Man." 
Prof. Loudvoice. Never saw it. Let us hear what it is like. 
Henry. It is partly humorous, partly pathetic. {Recites.) 
" In a dirty old house lived a Dirty Old Man, 
Soap, towels or brushes were not in his plan ; 
For forty long years, as the neighbors declared, 
His house never once had been cleaned or repaired. 

'Twas a scandal and shame to the business-like street, 
One terrible blot in a ledger so neat ; 
The shop full of hardware, but black as a hearse, 
And the rest of the mansion a thousand times worse. 

Outside, the old plaster, all spatter and stain, 

Looked spotty in sunshine, and streaky in rain^ 

The window-sills sprouted with mildewy grass, 

And the panes, from being broken, were known to be glass. 

On the rickety sign-board no learning could spell 
The merchant who sold, or the goods he'd to sell ; 
But for house and for man a new title took growth 
Like a fungus—the dirt gave its name to them both. 



158 THE ELOCUTION CLASS. 

Within, there were carpets and cushions of dust, 
The wood was half rot, and the metal half rust ; 
Old curtains — half cobwebs — hung grimly aloof; 
'Twas a spider's Elysium from cellar to roof! 

There, king of the spiders, that Dirty Old Man 
Lives busy and dirty as ever he can ; 
With dirt on his fingers, and dirt on his face, 
For the Dirty Old Man thinks the dirt no disgrace. 

From his wig to his shoes, from his coat to his shirt, 

His clothes are a proverb, a marvel of dirt ; 

The dirt is pervading, unfading, exceeding, 

Tet the Dirty Old Man hath both learning and breeding. 

Fine dames from their carriages, noble and fair, 

Have entered his shop — less to buy than to stare ; 

And have afterwards said, though the dirt was so frightful, 

The Dirty Man's manners were truly delightful. 

But they pried not up- stairs through the dirt and the gloom, 

Nor peeped at the door of the wonderful room 

That gossips made much of, in accents subdued, 

But whose inside no mortal might brag to have viewed. 

That room — forty years since, folk settled and decked it — 
The luncheon's prepared, and the guests are expected ; 
The handsome young host, he is gallant and gay, 
For his love and her friends will be with him to-day. 

With solid and dainty the table is drest, 
The wine beams its brightest, the flowers bloom their best ; 
Tet the host need not smile, and no guest will appear, 
For his sweetheart is dead, as he shortly shall hear. 

Full forty years since turned the key in that door; 
'Tis a room deaf and dumb 'mid the city's uproar. 
The guests for whose joyance that table was spread 
May now enter as ghosts, for they're every one dead. 

Through a chink in the shutter dim lights come and go, 
The seats are in order, the dishes in row ; 
But the luncheon was wealth to the rat and the mouse 
Whose descendants have long left the dirty old house. 



THE ELOCUTION CLASS. 159 

Cup and platter are masked in thick layers of dust, 

The flowers falFn to powder, the wines swath'd in crust; 

A nosegay was laid before one special chair, 

And the faded blue ribbon that bound it lies there. 

The old man has played out his part in the scene — 
Wherever he is now I hope he's more clean ; 
Yet give we a thought, free of scoffing or ban, 
To that dirty old house and that Dirty Old Man." 

Prof. Loudvoice. A very good selection, Henry. (Henry re- 
sumes his seat.) 
James. {Aside.) My turn now. How I hate it ! 
Prof. Loudvoice. Now, James. 

James. My grandfather was Irish, sir, so I selected " The Exile 
of Erin." 
Prof. Loudvoice. Yery good. 
James. (Bising to recite.) 

" There came to the beach a poor exile of Erin, 
The dew on his thin robe was heavy and chill ; 
For his country he sighed, when at twilight repairing 

To wander alone by the wind-beaten hill : 
But the day-star attracted his eye's sad devotion, 
For it rose o'er his own native isle of the ocean, 
"Where once, in the fire of his youthful emotion, 
He sang the bold anthem of Erin go bragh. 

Sad is my fate ! said the heart-broken stranger; 

The wild deer and wolf to a covert can flee, 
But I have no refuge from famine and danger, 

A home and a country remain not to me. 
Never again in the green sunny bowers, 
Where my forefathers lived, shall I spend the sweet hours, 
Or cover my harp with the wild woven flowers, 

And strike to the numbers of Erin go bragh ! 

Erin, my country ! though sad and forsaken, 
In dreams I revisit thy sea-beaten shore ; 

But, alas ! in a far foreign land I awaken, 
And sigh for the friends who can meet me no more ! 

Oh, cruel Fate ! wilt thou never replace me 



160 THE ELOCUTION CLASS. 

In a mansion of peace—where no perils can chase me ? 
Never again shall my brothers embrace me f 
They died to defend me, or lived to deplore ! 

Where is my cabin-door, fast by the wildwood ? 

Sisters and sire, did ye weep for its fall ? 
Where is the mother that looked on my childhood f 

And where is the bosom friend, dearer than all ? 
Oh, my sad heart ! long abandoned by pleasure, 
Why did it dote on a fast-fading treasure ? 
Tears, like the rain-drops, may fall without measure, 

But beauty and rapture they cannot recall ! 

Yet all its sad recollections suppressing, 
One dying wish my lone bosom can draw, 

Erin ! an exile bequeaths thee his blessing ! 
Land of my forefathers ! Erin go bragh ! 

Buried and cold, when my heart stills her motion, 

Green be thy fields, sweetest isle of the ocean! 

And thy harp-striking bards sing aloud with devotion — 
Erin mavourneen ! Erin go bragh !" 

Prof. Loudvoice. Yery well read ! I am proud of my class, 
and quite sure you will all acquit yourselves well on Wednesday 
evening. 

Thomas. Won't you recite something for us, Professor, before 
you close the class ? 

Prof. Loudvoice. (Smiling.) I am afraid that is gross flattery, 
Thomas. You must have heard my voice to your heart's content. 

Henry. But you only recited in little snatches, to show us how 
to emphasize a word or a sentence. 

James. Do, Professor, give us one real recitation. 

Prof. Loudvoice. What shall it be, then ? 

Eobert. Shakspeare ! 

Henry. Oh, yes — Mark Antony over Caesar's body. The one 
you arranged for a recitation. 

Prof. Loudvoice. (Rising.) 

" Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears : 
I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. 
The evil that men do lives after them, 



THE ELOCUTION CLASS. 161 

The good is oft interred with their bones : 

So let it be with Caesar ! The noble Brutus 

Hath told you Caesar was ambitious ; 

If it were so, it was a grievous fault, 

And grievously hath Caesar answer'd it. 

Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest 

(For Brutus is an honorable man — 

So are they all, all honorable men), 

Come I to speak in Caesar's funeral. 

He was my friend, faithful and just to me ; 

But Brutus says he was ambitious : 

And Brutus is an honorable man. 

He hath brought many captives home to Some, 

"Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill. 

Did this in Caesar seem ambitious ? 

When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept ; 

Ambition should be made of sterner stuff; 

Yet Brutus says he was ambitious: 

And Brutus is an honorable man. 

You all did see, that on the Lupercal 

I thrice presented him a Mngly crown, 

Which he did thrice refuse. Was this ambition ? 

Yet Brutus says he was ambitious : 

And, sure, he is an honorable man. 

I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke, 

But here I am to speak what I do know. 

You all did love him once, not without cause : 

WTiat cause withholds you, then, to mourn for him ? 

Oh, judgment ! thou art fled to brutish beasts, 

And men have lost their reason ! — bear with me ; 

My heart is in the coffin there with Ceesar, 

And I must pause till it come back to me. 

But yesterday the word of Caesar might 

Have stood against the world : now he lies there, 

And none so poor to do him reverence. 

masters ! If I were disposed to stir 
Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage, 

1 should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong: 



162 THE ELOCUTION CLASS. 

Who, you ail know, are honorable men. 

I will not do them wrong : I rather choose 

To wrong the dead, to wrong myself, and you, 

Than I will wrong such honorable men." 
Is not that about enough, boys ? 
Thomas. Oh, you haven't come to the best part — the mantle. 
Prof. Loudvoice. But I shall tire you. 
All. £To, no ! We want to hear the rest. 
Prof. Loudvoice. 

" If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. 

You all do know this mantle : I remember 

The first time ever Caesar put it on ; 

'Twas on a summer's evening in his tent, 

That day he overcame the Neroii. 

Look ! in this place ran Cassius' dagger through. 

See what a rent the envious Casca made ! 

Through this the well-beloved Brutus stabbed ; 

And as he pluck 'd his cursed steel away, 

Mark how the blood of Csesar follow'd it, 

As rushing out of doors, to be resolv'd 

If Brutus so unkindly knocked, or no ; 

For Brutus, as you know, was Caesar's angel : 

Judge, you gods, how dearly Caesar lov'd him ! 

This was the most unkindest cut of all ; 

For when the noble Caesar saw him stab, 

Ingratitude, more strong than traitor's arms, 

Quite vanquish' d him ; then burst his mighty heart; 

And in his mantle muffling up his face, 

Even at the base of Pompey's statue, 

Which all the while ran blood, great Caesar fell. 

Oh, what a fall was there, my countrymen ! 

Then I, and you, and all of us fell down, 

Whilst bloody treason flourish' d over us. 

Oh, now you weep : and I perceive you feel 

The dint of pity ; these are gracious drops. 

Kind souls ! what ! weep you, when you but behold 

Our Caesar's vesture wounded ? Look you here — 

Here is himself, marr'd as veil see, with traitors. 



THE ELOCUTION CLASS. 163 

Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up 

To such a sudden flood of mutiny ! 

They that have done this deed are honorable ; 

What private griefs they have, alas ! I know not, 

That made them do it ; they are wise and honorable, 

And will, no doubt, with reasons answer you. 

I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts ; 

I am no orator, as Brutus is, 

But, as you know me all, a plain, blunt man, 

That love my friend ; and that they know full well, 

That gave me public leave to speak of him. 

For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, 

Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech 

To stir men's blood ; I only speak right on ; 

I tell you that which you yourselves do know, 

Show you sweet Caesar's wounds — poor, poor dumb mouths— 

And bid them speak for me : but, were I Brutus, 

And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony 

"Would ruffle up your spirits, and put a tongue 

In every wound of Caesar, that should move 

The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny !" 

Robert. Thank you, Professor. 

Henry. That's the best lesson we have had this term. 

James. Tou will come over Wednesday evening, won't you ? 

Prof. Loudvoice. I shall be here. Be sure you do me credit, 
boys. 

John. We will try, sir. 

Thomas. That we will ! 

Curtain. 



164 LOVE AND STRATAGEM. 



LOVE AND STRATAGEM. 



(fj h a *t a c t e *t $ ♦ 

Harry Hat. 

Kate Hay — His Sister. 

Florence Gates— A Young Heiress. 

SCENE I. — A modem Parlor. 

SCENE II. — A Parlor, differently furnished from that of first 
scene. Centre of background, a frame with a curtain easily 
raised and lowered. About the room some quaint, odd articles, 
seen in a rather dim light. 

SCENE I. — Kate standing; Florence seated, with disconsolate 
expression. 

Kate. (Walking up and down, as if excited.) It is the most 
ridiculous thing in the world, Mo ! 

Florence. (Sobbing.) But a promise ought to be binding. 

Kate. Not such a promise as that. The very idea of your aunt 
expecting you to live and die an old maid, because she hated, or 
pretended to hate, the very sight of a man ! Hateful old thing ! 

Florence. Oh, Kate ! she was not hateful ! She took me when 
I was a wee mite of a baby, and was as kind as a mother to me, 
and she has left me all her large fortune. I loved her dearly. 

Kate. But she made a perfect nun of you ; would never allow 
you to visit where you were likely to meet gentlemen, or have one 
of the sterner sex visit you. I am certain our intimacy would 
never have been countenanced if dear Harry had not been in 
Europe. 

Florence. (Sighing.) If she had only Known him ! 

Kate. She must have liked him. Everybody does like Harry. 
(Putting her arms around Florence, coaxingly.) Come, now, be 
reasonable. Harry loves you devotedly. 

Florence. (Sadly.) Yes, I am afraid he does. 

Kate. And you love him ? 

Florence. Y— e— e— s. 



LOYE AND STRATAGEM. 165 

Kate. And if Miss Hannah Gates, your venerable aunt, had 
known him, she would never have exacted that promise that so 
worries you. 

Florence. But she did not know him, and she did exact the 
promise. 

Kate. A promise to— what was it, exactly ? 

Florence. She told me all the miseries of unhappy marriages— * 

Kate. (Aside.) Much she knew about it ! 

Florence. And the happiness of perfect independence — 

Kate. Well? 

Florence. And she made me promise never, never to marry 
any man without her cordial consent. 

Kate. (Starting up.) "What! I thought yon promised never, 
never to marry any man, under any circumstances f 

Florence. It is just the same thing. 

Kate. (Aside.) A glorious idea strikes me. A perfect inspira- 
tion ! 

Florence. Of course she can never come from her grave to con- 
sent. 

Kate. Why not ? You say you are sure she will haunt you if 
you marry. She must come from her grave to do that. 

Florence. (Starting up.) Oh, Kate, Harry is coming ! 

Kate. (Quietly.) "Well? 

Florence. (In great agitation.) I cannot see him; I will write 
to him. 

Kate. (Reproachfully.) Tou are unkind. 

Florence. But— but — you see him to-day. I will be more 
composed to-morrow. (Exit Florence.) 

Kate. Poor Flo ! It is easy to see how much she loves my 

brother. And yet her promise seems to be binding. Well, all is 

fair in love and war, and I think I can yet make a woman's wit 

i bear upon this vexed question, and bring together this lovelorn 

pair. 

Harry. (Behind the scenes.) Where are you all? Flo! Kate ! 

Enter Harry. 

Halloo, Kitty ! Alone? 
Kate. As you see. 
Harry. (Eagerly.) But you have succeeded? You have per- 



166 LOVE AND STRATAGEM. 

suaded Florence that the happiness of two lives is of more import- 
ance than humoring the absurd whims of a soured old maid ? 

Kate. I wish I could say yes. Florence still persists in her 
resolution to keep her promise at any cost. But — 

Harry. That sounds hopeful ! But ? 

Kate. I think we may accomplish by stratagem what we will 
never gain by argument. 

Harry. You little darling ! How ? 

Kate. Leave that to me. Tou never saw Miss Hannah ? 

Harry. Never ; but I have heard her described. A little woman 
who wore at seventy the dress of her young days. 

Kate. Precisely. Her favorite dress was a brown silk, quite 
short; prunella shoes; a kerchief of white muslin; and of late 
years a white cap, under the border of which were short curls of 
gray hair. She had black eyes, and a very peculiar voice. I can 
imitate it to perfection. (Changing voice.) Flo ! I'm really amazed 
to hear you admiring a picture of a dreadful man ! 

Harry. (Laughing.) Poor Flo ! I imagine she heard plenty of 
that sort of stuff. 

Kate. But now for my plan. Tou know all Snowden is excited 
about the medium who pretends to raise spirits. 

Harry. Stuff and nonsense. 

Kate. Tou may say that under your breath ; but just at present 
I want you to be a devout believer in Professor — what is his name ? 

Harry. Professor Sylvester Jackson. Tou may see it placarded 
on every fence in town in letters five feet long. 

Kate. Tou must persuade Florence that it is a most wonderful 
manifestation of ghostly power, and waken in her mind a profound 
desire to witness his skill. 

Harry. WTiat are you talking about ? I would not take Flor- 
ence to one of his absurd pow-wows upon any consideration. 

Kate. But he grants private interviews in his office. 

Harry. But — 

Kate. Tou unreasonable man ! will you do as I direct ? 

Harry. Tes — what is it ? 

Kate. Persuade Florence to go with me to visit Professor Jack- 
son and witness his power of summoning departed spirits. I will 
manage the rest. 

Harry. But cannot you explain— 



LOVE AND STKATAGEM. 167 

Kate. I can explain nothing now. "We may be interrupted ; 
and ; indeed^ I hear Flo's step in the hall at this moment. 
Harry. I must work in the dark, then ? 
Kate. JS~o ; I will tell you my plan later. Here comes Florence ! 

Enter Florence. 

Harry. {Advancing to meet her. ) Good morning, Florence ! 

Florence. {Coldly.) G-ood morning, Mr. Hay! 

Harry. Mr. Hay ! {Beproachftdly.) Am I, then, to consider 
myself a stranger where I have been at least a friend ? 

Florence. {Embarrassed.) It — will — be — better. 

Harry. Better ! I cannot so consider it. 

Kate. {Aside.) I see a splendid opportunity to make a raid 
upon the wardrobe of the late Miss Hannah Gates, spinster, which 
I must improve. {Aloud. ) I am going to your room, Flo, for the 
overskirt you promised to lend me for a pattern. 

Florence. {Quickly.) ISTo, no, I will get it for you. 

Kate. ( Going toward door. ) I know exactly where to find it. 
Take good care of Harry till I come down again. {Exit Kate.) 

Harry. {Aside.) As a sister, Kate is simply angelic {Aloud.) 
I presume your new form of address is to inform me, without far- 
ther explanation, that my proposal to you is rejected. You do not 
love me ? 

Florence. Yes — no — I — I meant you to understand — it is im- 
possible for me — to — to— 

Harry. Be my wife ? And yet you are the last woman in the 
world I would have suspected of deliberate coquetry. Well, 
{sighing) live and learn ! 

Florence. I — please do not have a bad opinion of me, Har — 
Mr. Hay. It is not best for us to keep up our old intimacy since 
— we — we must — be — only Mends — and — and — 

Harry. {Bitterly.) And this forced formality is to extinguish 
my love for you, which I so foolishly hoped you returned. For I 
was idiot enough to think you loved me, Florence ! 

Florence. {Sobbing.) I do — I do love you, Harry. 

Harry. {Embracing her.) My own love ! My darling ! 

Florence. {Beleasing herself .) K"o, no, you must not ! I dare 
not! I can -never be your darling! Go away, and — {sobbing) 



168 LOVE AND STRATAGEM. 

never— come— again ! My aunt's spirit will haunt me if I marry 
yon ! (Sinks into a chair, weeping.) 

Harry. (Aside.) H 'm! I begin to see Kate's idea. (Aloud.) 
Oh, speaMng of spirits, yon should see Professor Jackson's mani- 
festations. 

Florence. (Looking up, surprised.) See whaU (Aside.) I 
don't believe he cares one bit ! 

Harry. Professor Jackson's spiritual manifestations. He calls 
up visible spirits. 

Florence. "What nonsense ! 

Harry. But it is not nonsense. 

Enter Kate. 

Kate. It would be refreshing to hear what you two can be talk- 
ing about that is not nonsense. 

Harry. Don't be sarcastic, Catherine. Our nonsense is over ; 
we are talking about Professor Jackson. 

Kate. (Clasping her hands.) Oh, the dear old man! Florence, 
you must see him, 

Harry. Old ! why he is — 

Kate. (Frowning at Harry.) Seventy, at least, though he is 
so tall and straight. His hair and beard are white as snow. 

Harry. Oh, yes! (Aside.) I'll wait for another hint before 
committing myself any further. 

Florence. But what does he do ? 

Harry. Calls up spirits like the magicians in a fairy-tale book. 
Had the ghost of Tecumseh in the hall last evening. 

Kate. You really must see him. We won't go to the hall, but 
to his office. Can't you go with us, Harry ? 

Harry. Miss Gates has given me to understand, most distinctly, 
that my room is preferable to my company. 

Florence. Unkind ! (Aside. ) But he shall see that I can be as 
indifferent as he is. (Aloud.) Oh, we can go alone, Kate. 

Kate. You will go, then ? Can you meet me at noon, to-mor- 
row, at the office, ISTo.— Where is it, Harry? 

Harry. No. 227 Elm Place. 

Florence. But why cannot we go together ? 

Harry. (Aside.) That's a poser for Miss Kate. 



LOVE AND STRATAGEM. 169 

Kate. Oh, I have to go with mother to the dressmaker's ! But 
I can meet you at noon. 

Harry. I know you will be delighted. 

Florence. {Coldly.) Undoubtedly. 

Kate. Well, I must go ! I'll meet you at the gate, Harry. I 
want to tie up my overskirt pattern. Au revoir. (Exit Kate.) 

Harry. Is it au revoir for me, too, Florence ? 

Florence. I — I — certainly — I hope you will call again. 

Harry. (Stiffly.) Thank you! I shall certainly accept your 
most cordial invitation. Good morning, Miss Gates ! (Bows very 
formally, and exit.) 

Florence. I cannot let him go away angry. Harry ! Harry ! 
He has gone ! Oh, dear, my heart is broken ! 

SCENE II. — Curtain rises, discovering Haery pacing up and 

down. 

Harry. Where can Kate be ? We must be ready for our parts, 
and Florence may be here at any moment. 

Enter Kate, with a bundle. 

Kate. "Well? 

Harry. All serene, arch conspirator. A ten-dollar note per- 
suaded the professor to vanish much more quickly than his most 
lively ghost, and we have the field to ourselves. After Florence 
comes, all other visitors are to be told the medium is out of town. 

Kate. (Opening bundle.) Array yourself, then. (Passes articles 
as she names them.) Here is your white wig and beard, your 
pointed cap — 

Harry. "Wait a moment. (Adjusts tcig and cap.) Now ! 

Kate. And your robe. (Shakes out a long black robe, trimmed 
with grotesque embroidery.) 

Harry. (Putting on robe.) And you ? 

Kate. As you see. (Throws off bonnet and shawl. She wears 
a brown silk dress of antiquated pattern, prunella shoes, white 
kerchief pinned over her breast, white cap, gray curls, and black 
lace mittens.) I need only my spectacles, and here they are. 
(Puts on spectacles. Knocking outside. ) 

Harry, Here comes Florence. (Pushes Kate's bonnet and 
shawl under a table.) 



170 LOVE AND STRATAGEM. 

Kate. All right. {Hides behind the curtain over frame.) Can 
you see me ? 

Harry. {Adjusting curtain.) No; keep quiet. {Enoch at door.) 

Come in ! 

Enter Florence. 

Harry. {In disguised voice, which he must keep up.) G-ood morn- 
ing ! 

Florence. I expected to meet Mends here. 

Harry. Ah ! You may perhaps desire to hold intercourse v/ith 
some departed friend ? 

Florence. I — no— yes. {Aside.) I must give some reason for 
coming. 

Harry. Allow me in that case to suggest that the spirits much 
prefer to meet their earthly friends alone ; a crowd is offensive to 
them. Can you name any friend you wish to see ? {Aside.) Now 
if she names anybody but her aunt I'm in a nice mess ! 

Florence. No ; I — oh, I wish I had not come ! 

Harry. {Aside.) Poor little darling, she is half frightened to 
death. {Aloud.) Will you be seated? {Places a chair to face 
frame.) Perhaps some of your friends would manifest themselves. 
H'm ! Is there any friend of this lady's here ? {Three raps behind 
curtain. ) 

Florence. {Trembling.) Oh, tell them to go away! 

Harry. Will the spirit rap out its name? {A number of raps.) 

Florence. Oh, I must go home ! I am afraid ! 

Harry. Hannah ! Have you a friend called Hannah ? 

Florence. Yes. {Aside.) I will be courageous, if it really is 
Aunt Hannah. 

Harry. Will the spirit manifest herself? {Three raps.) 

Harry. {Draioing curtain, shows Kate.) Bo you recognize 
the spirit ? 

Florence. Oh, it is Aunt Hannah ! "Will she speak to me ? 

Kate. {In disguised voice.) Florence! 

Harry. {Aside.) Fm afraid she will faint. 

Florence. Aunt Hannah, are— you — happy? 

Kate. No — because you are not. 

Florence. You know that — 

Kate. I know that my cruel wishes have nearly broken your 
heart. You love — 



LOYE AND STEATAGEM. 171 

Florence. {Faintly.) Yes. 

Kate. Ajid are beloved ? 

Florence. Yes. 

Kate. But your promise to me keeps you from happiness ? 

Florence. Yes. 

Kate. Be happy, then ; I give my cordial consent to your mar- 
riage. 

Florence, (rising.) Aunt Hannah— I— (Faints.) 

Harry. (Catching her.) Kate, she has fainted; we have gone 
too far ! 

Kate. Get some water ! Take off that disguise ; let her see a 
face she knows. (Takes Florence.) 

Harry. (Tearing off disguise, and getting water.) Here ! 

Kate. Eoll up the chair ! (Places Florence in chair.) 2sow 
bathe her face ; she must not see me. (Bundles ujp Harry's dis- 
guise and exit.) 

Harry. Oh, if we have really made her ill ! (Bathing Flor- 
ence's face.) 

Florence. (Faintly.) Oh ! (Opens her eyes.) Harry ! I — where 
is — oh, what is it all ? 

Harry. You must have fainted, dear. I came to meet Kate, 
and found you insensible. 

Florence. (Looking round.) But the Professor? 

Harry. I did not see him. 

Florence. Aunt Hannah ? 

Harry. Do not tremble so ; you see there is no one here but 
ourselves. 

Florence. But the professor was here, and the spirit of my aunt. 

Harry. You are jesting. 

Florence. I speak only the truth. I saw her ! She spoke to 
me! 

Harry. (Bitterly.) To remind you, I presume, that her tyranny 
still holds you from happiness? 

Florence. ISTo. (Blushing.) She was kind and good — she — 

Harry. (Eagerly.) She released you? 

Florence. Do you then care to hear ? 

Harry. Hurrah for Professor Jackson ! (Embracing Florence.) 
Then there is still happiness for us. 

Florence. But, Harry, where can Kate be ? 



172 LOTE AND STRATAGEM. 

Enter Kate, as if in haste. 

Kate. Oh, 1 am so sorry to be late ! But mamma was so long 
at the dressmaker's I could not get here one moment sooner. 
Now we can see if Professor Jackson can call up spirits. 

Florence. No, no, another time. I cannot bear any more. 

Harry. Tou are quite right. "Who knows if she, the ghost, I 
mean, might not change her mind ? 

Kate. What ghost ? Oh, Flo ! did you really see anything ? 

Florence. I will tell you when we get home. My carriage is 
here ; will you not drive home with me — you- — and — (hesitating, 
and then extending her hand to Harry) Mr. Hay f 

Henry. Forbidden. Tou are never to use that name again, un- 
til— 

Kate. When ? 

Harry. I can retaliate by calling Florence Mrs. Hay. (Leads 
Florence to door, and exit) 

Kate. There's gratitude! They've forgotten my existence. 
They will probably drive home without me. Shades of Professor 
Jackson's Indians, what barbarity ! 

Enter Harry. 
Harry. What are you waiting for? 

Kate. Oh, you have remembered me ! I was just about to per- 
sonate Miss Hannah again, in order to deliver my opinion of— a 
horrid man. 

Curtain. 



EXTREMES MEET. 173 



EXTEEMES MEET. 



<g b a tj a o X z \ $ ♦ 

Mr. John Duncombe— ^4w Elderly Gentleman. 
Mrs. John Duncombe— His Wife. 

Algernon Eastburn— A Wealthy Young Gentleman, fashion- 
able and fastidious. 
Thomas Blake— A Western Farmer, not wealthy. 
Estelle Duncombe— Mr. Buncombe's Niece, an heiress. 
Susan Holt— Mrs. Duncombe' $ Niece, a farmer's daughter. 

SCEKE I. — A handsomely furnished modern Parlor. Open 
piano, with music scattered upon it; sofas ; table, with photo- 
graph-album and other books. Curtain rises, discovering Mr. 
and Mrs. Duncombe playing backgammon. 

Mr. Duncombe. It is your throw, my dear. 

Mrs. Duncombe. Oh, John, I can't play at all, I am so excited 
thinking about the dear girls ! Wasn't it a splendid idea of mine 
to invite Mr. Eastburn and Mr. Blake to make us a little visit? 

Mr. Duncombe. H'm — h'm ! The fact is, my dear, that your 
Uncle James's money is developing some wonderful new traits in 
your character, and match-making is one of them. 

Mrs. Duncombe. But, John, the poor, dear girls have no mother ; 
and Estelle will certainly be the victim of some fortune-hunter, if 
we do not take care of her. And as for poor Susan, she has no 
chance at all, without one penny, unless Tom does take a fancy to 
her. 

Mr. Duncombe. Oh, she is to marry Tom. 

Mrs. Duncombe. Why, of course ! They are exactly suited to 
each other. Tom won't care for a rich wife ; but he must have a 
capable, useful one, and Susan is a capital housekeeper, a good 
seamstress— everything a farmer's wife ought to be. 

Mr. Duncombe. Yes ! yes ! And I suppose Estelle is to marry 
Algernon. 

Mrs. Duncombe. Why, of course ! You know he is as rich as 



174 EXTREMES MEET. 

she is, so he cannot be suspected of fortune-hunting. And they 
are exactly suited to each other. Both accomplished and refined, 
accustomed to society, graceful — 

Mr. Buncombe. Useless and ornamental ! 

Mrs. Buncombe. Well, they are rich enough to be lazy. Poor 
Susie, now, must be active ; and Tom's farm would not flourish 
with an ornamental master. But some one is coming ! (Throws 
dice.) Six and four ! I take your man up. 

Enter Estelle, very handsomely dressed in the height of the 
fashion, and Thomas Blake, very plainly dressed in a gray 
suit. 

Estelle. (As if continuing a conversation. ) And all these com- 
mon vegetables really have such pretty blossoms ? 

Mrs. Buncombe. (Aside.) Dear! dear! "Where is Algernon? 
The idea of Tom's boring Estelle with a conversation about vege- 
tables I 

Tom. Nature is a master-hand, Miss Estelle, in combining the 
useful and beautiful. I assure you there is no prettier flower-bed 
than a bean-patch in blossom. (During all the conversation he- 
tween the others, Mr. and Mrs. Buncombe play backgammon, the 
lady in an absent-minded way, watching the others.) 

Estelle. (Fanning herself languidly.) Charming, I have no 
doubt. (Sits down; Tom standing, leaning over her chair, and 
appearing to converse.) 

Mrs. Buncombe. (Battling dice.) Where can Algernon be ? 

Enter Algernon, dressed in the height of the fashion, following 

Susan, who wears white, with no ornament out a few natural 

flowers. 

Algernon. You are cruel ! Pray let me have— (Stops sud- 
denly, as if just seeing the others.) 

Mrs. Buncombe. Susie ! do be less boisterous. You should 
enter a parlor quietly, as Estelle does. 

Susan. Yes, auntie. (Aside to Algernon.) But I never can 
be like Estelle, you know. 

Algernon. (Aside to Susan.) It would be a burning shame if 
you were ; she is all affectation. 

Mrs. Buncombe. Estelle, dear, sing that new song for us. Al- 



EXTKEMES MEET. 175 

gemon will turn your music. Susan, did you show Torn the pic- 
tures we put in the album yesterday? (Algernon and Estelle 
go to piano; Tom and Susan to table; all moving reluctantly.) 

Estelle. {To Algernon.) It is from the new opera. 

Algernon. {Selecting music.) This? 

Estelle. Yes. {Sings some very showy selection. While she 
sings, Algernon looks at Susan, and Tom at Estelle. Tom 
rises and saunters to piano, while Algernon goes over to table, 
and converses in dumb show with Susan.) 

Estelle. {Finishing the song.) Something simpler would suit 
you better, perhaps, Mr. Blake ? 

Tom. ]$ot at all. I hare heard ballads murdered by untrained 
voices, till simplicity has quite lost its charm. 

Estelle. High treason ! I thought Xature was your closest 
friend ? 

Tom. So, indeed, she is. But one may — {Sinks his voice to a 
confidential tone.) 

Susan. {Sighing.) I wish I could sing as Estelle does ! 

Algernon. A foolish wish, All those trills and cadenzas are 
perfectly meaningless. To me a simple ballad, sung as I heard 
the "Land of the Leal" sung this morning, is far sweeter. 

Susan. {Blushing.) You heard! Why, it was scarcely sunrise ! 

Algernon. And you give me credit, I do not doubt, for sleep- 
ing till noon. But I am not quite a drone, though never such a 
busy bee as you are. 

Susan. One must do something ; and since I have no accom- 
plishments, I patch and darn, bake and broil, like a housemaid. 

Algernon. Would that some of our fine ladies — {Sinks his 
voice to -a confidential tone.) 

Mrs. Duncombe. {Briskly.) Dear me, we are all going to sleep. 
{Pushes board aside.) Come, young people, have a waltz. I will 
play for you. Algernon, take Estelle. Susan is waiting for you, 
Tom. {She plays a waltz. The others pair off reluctantly as pro- 
posed, dance a few moments languidly, then stop.) 

Estelle. It is so warm to dance ! 

Susan. Yes, it is warm. 

Tom. {Aside to Estelle.) But if you would take just one turn 
with me. 

Estelle. {With animation.) Certainly! {They waltz.) 



176 EXTKEMES MEET. 

Algernon. Miss Susan, may I have the honor ? 

Susan. "With pleasure ! {They all waltz with great animation.) 

Mrs. Buncombe. (Looking up.) Goodness me ! (Lets her hands 
fall with a crash on piano.) 

Mr. Buncombe. (Aside.) But, of course, Estelle and Algernon, 
Tom and Susie, are exactly suited to each other. 

SCENE II.— Same as lefore. 

Curtain rises, discovering Tom pacing up and down, in a rage. 

Tom. Heartless coquette ! I might have known that so dainty 
a darling would never care for a rough farmer like me ! And yet — 
(sighing) I did think she might be won to love me. She seemed 
to admire our free "Western life, and sometimes I fancied — pshaw ! 
fancied, indeed ! How could I imagine she loved me, with such a 
fine fop to contrast my manners with as Algernon Eastbum! 
Puppy ! But Mrs. Buncombe says they are going to be married ! 
Til pack my trunk and start for Minnesota to-night ! (Exit.) 

Enter Mrs. Buncombe and Algernon. 

Algernon. (Gloomily.) I am more than surprised — I am 
stunned ! 

Mrs. Buncombe. Pa and I are delighted with the match. Tom 

. needs just such a wife as Susan, for he must make his own way, 

and she has lived on a farm all her life. She is not accomplished 

and brilliant like dear Estelle, but she is thoroughly well educated, 

and the most practical little thing. 

Algernon. Yes. (Aside.) She's worth about ten dozen of 
such frivolous butterflies as Estelle. 

Mrs. Buncombe. But I must go to give some orders to the 
servants. I will send Estelle to keep you company. (Exit Mrs. 
Buncombe.) 

Algernon. Now, who would believe that sweet, artless girl 
such an arrant flirt ? Going to marry that great, coarse "Western 
fellow ! Why, his neckties would throw me into convulsions. I 
thought Estelle was toning him down, but it was Susan. And she 
is going to marry him ! Well, Fin not going to break my heart for 
any woman ; but I think I'll go back to New York j I don't care 
to see this interesting couple after their engagement. Oh, Susie ! 
Susie ! Do you guess what a true love you have slighted ? (Exit.) 



EXTREMES MEET. 177 

Enter Estelle ; very sloivly, with apiece of fancy work in Iter hand. 

She sits down and sighs. Enter Susan, with a piece of plain 

sewing. She sits down and sighs. 

Estelle. "What are you making, dear? 

Susan. Only hemming some handkerchiefs. I cannot embroider 
such lovely things as you do. 

Estelle. They would be of very little use on a farm. 

Susan. (Sighing.) Yery little use. (Aside.) How did she know 
I meant to go home ? (Aloud.) But they will be beautiful in your 
city rooms. 

Estelle. I have so many. (Aside.) Who told her I was to re- 
turn to the city? (Aloud.) Mr. Blake is a fine, noble fellow, Susie; 
I hope — 

Susan. He is too blunt to please me ! His manners have no 
polish, no refinement. 

Estelle. But he has such a frank, winning address, and, if he 
is not dandified, I am sure he is never rude. 

Susan. But Mr. Eastburn has perfect manners. 

Estelle. He is too dandified ! His whole heart is in his boots 
and neckties. I like a man to have a soul above dress. - 

Susan. And he has. It is custom, habit, that makes him fastidi- 
ous. Under all his refined manners he has a true, manly nature. 

Estelle. Perhaps he has. But, affcer all, you prefer Mr. Blake's 
honest, outspoken ways. 

Susan. And you must admire Mr. Eastburn. 

Estelle. I do not, then ! "What made you think so ? 

Susan. "Why, Aunt Lizzie said you were engaged to him. 

Estelle. I! Engaged to Algernon Eastburn! Aunt Lizzie 
said that % 

Susan. Well, she said you were to be married very soon. 

Estelle. When you marry Mr. Blake. 

Susan. I ! I marry Tom Blake ! Never ! 

Estelle. But Aunt Lizzie told me you were to be married ! 
Susan. She dreamed it ! Why, Estelle, I always thought he was 
desperately in love with you ! 
Estelle. (Laughing.) Oh, you darling ! So did I, 
Susan. And I am sure, certain, he never said one word of court- 
ing to me. 

Estelle. But Algernon has. I am not blind, my dear. 



178 EXTREMES MEET. 

Susan. (Blushing.) Did you think Mr. Eastbum — liked — me ? 
Estelle. I am sure, positive, lie loves you. 
Susan. You dear girl ! So am I. 

Enter Algernon and Tom. Estelle and Susan sew as if not 
seeing them. Algernon goes to Estelle, Tom to Susan. 

Algernon. "What a lovely piece of embroidery, Miss Dun- 
combe ! (Aside. ) Confound the fellow, he is taking her hand. 
(Looking at Tom and Susan.) 

Tom. Industrious as usual, Miss Holt. (Talcing hold of Susan's 
work, out looking at Estelle.) 

Susan. Only hemming a handkerchief. 

Tom. (Aside.) How interested he is in her work ! 

Algernon. Have you any commissions for JSTew York, Miss 
Duncombe ? I shall probably return to-morrow. 

Tom. I must bid you all farewell, Miss Holt, I am going West 
to-night. 

Estelle. To-morrow! 

Susan. To-night! 

Estelle. Susie, dear, did you know Mr. Eastburn talks of leav- 
ing us ? 

Susan. Estelle, did you know Mr. Blake is going home ? (They 
all rise. Susan bends her face over her work. Estelle walks to 
background. Tom. follows Estelle.) 

Algernon. (To Susan.) You— you will permit me to offer my 
congratulations, Miss Holt. 

Susan. (Very low.) Upon what? 

Algernon. Blake is a fine fellow. (Aside.) Confound him ! 

Susan. Yes, he is a very nice man, and I— I hope Estelle will 
return his affection. 

Algernon. Estelle ! his affection ! 

Susan. (Innocently.) "Why, surely you must have noticed how 
devoted he has been to her all summer. 

Algernon. (Rapturously.) So he has ! Oh, if you knew the 
load — (Sinks his voice.) 

Tom. (Coming forward with Estelle.) And you are sure that 
Algernon loves Susan as, my darling, I love you % 

Estelle. Look at them, Tom ! 



EXTEEMES MEET. 179 

Algernon. {Embracing Susan.) You have made me the hap- 
piest man in the world ! 
Tom. {Embracing Estelle.) Always excepting me ! 

Enter Mr. and Mrs. Duncombe. 

Mrs. Duncombe. {Aside.) Dear, dear ! There is Tom pester- 
ing poor Estelle again. {Aloud.) Algernon, do show Estelle the 
new ferns. Tom, yon have not taken Snsie to see the carnations. 

Algernon. Excuse me, Mrs. Duncombe, but I prefer to escort 
my promised wife myself. ( Offers arm to Susan. ) 

Estelle. And I, dear auntie, can find the ferns with Tom. 

Mrs. Duncombe. You don't mean that you are engaged to Tom, 
Estelle ? 

Estelle. "\v~ith your consent. 

Mrs. Duncombe. And you to Algernon, Susie ? 

Susan. If you are willing. 

Mrs. Duncombe. But you don't suit each other at all. 

Mr. Duncombe. Pardon me, my dear, but for a match-maker 
you seem to have forgotten one rule as old as the hills. 

Algernon. And that is— 

Mr. Duncombe. Extremes meet. 

Curtain. 



DICK'S 

Recitations and Readings. 



A carefully compiled Series of Yolumes, uniform in size and 

style, which will include everything that is fresh and 

popular, introducing, also, the older Gems of 

the English Language that are always 

in demand : embracing 

CHARACTER SKETCHES, DIALECT PIECES, 
HUMOROUS, SENTIMENTAL, 

PATHETIC, PATRIOTIC, 

ELOQUENT, AND SERIOUS. 

Recitations and Readings in Poetry and Prose, excluding every- 
thing that is not eminently appropriate, either 
for Declamation or Public Reading. 



Each dumber contains about 180 Pages of Reading Matter, 
printed on fine paper, from clear type, and handsomely bound 

in Illuminated Paper Cover , 30 cts. 

Or Full Cloth 50 Cts. 

Sight Numbers of the above Series are now ready, and a new 
Number will be published every three months. 



%* The Publishers, upon receipt of price, will send any of the 
following boohs by mail, postage free, to any part o£ the 
United States. In ordering books, the full name, post-office, 
county and State should be plainly written. 



"We publish a complete Descriptive Catalogue, which will be sent 
free on application. 

DICK.& FITZGERALD, Publishers, 

Box 3975. NEW YORK. 



Popular Book3 sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 
Graham's School Dialogues for Young People. A new and 

original collection of Dialogues intended for Anniversaries and Exhibitions. 
By George C. Graham. These dialogues have been written expressly to give • 
advanced scholars an opportunity for displaying their dramatic powers and 
ingenuity; they are exceedingly amusing, and full of ludicrous and telling 
stage-situations. 



Contents. 



The Empty House 

Turning the Tables 

A Doctor by Proxy 

Strategy 

The Picnic Party 

An Aspirant for Fame . . . 

The New Boy 

Which was the Hero ?. . . 
Astonishing the Natives. 

The Critics 

The Expected Visitor 



» 


in 


5 


1 


4 




6 


1 




4 


3 


3 


3 




4 




3 






3 


6 






6 



Contents. 



A Nightmare of India. . . , 

An Indian Raid 

Going ! Going • Gone ! 

The Book-Peddler 

The Burglar- Alarm 

Missed His Chance 

The Girl of the Period. . . 
The Photograph Gallery. 

The Elocution Class 

Love and Stratagem 

Extremes Meet 



16mo, 176 pages, illuminated paper cover. Price 30 cts. 

" '* 4t *' board " " 50 CtS* 



Burbank's Recitations and Readings. A collection of Hu- 
morous, Dramatic and Dialect Selections, edited and arranged for public 
reading or recitation, by Alfred P. Burbank. Containing many choice selec- 
tions never before in print, as well as some old favorites. 

CONTENTS. 



Conn's Description of the Eox Hunt 

The Tailor's Thimble. 

The O'Kelly Cabin. 

The "Oolaghaun." 

Eip Van Winkle. 

The Death of the Old Squire. 

Schneider's Description of " Leah." 

Love on the Half-Shell. 

Eather Phil's Collection. 

A Literary Nightmare. 

The Birth of Ireland. 

The Irishman's Panorama. 

Monev Musk. 

The Ship of Faith. 

Pup-pup- poetry. 

A Senator Entangled. 

Christmas-Night in the Quarters. 

A Love Song. 

The Steamboat Race. 

The Swell. 

The Little Stow-away. 

16mo, 150 pp. Price 



Surly Tim's Trouble. 
The Water Mill. 
The Fall of the Pemberton Mill. 
Death of Little Jo. 
The Soldier's Reprieve. 
Brother Anderson. 
A Basket of Flowers. 
Mah'sr John. 
Daddv Flick's Spree. 
The Ballad of Babie Bell. 
Aux Italiens. 
Breitmann in Maryland. 
'* The Morning Argus '' Obituary De- 
partment. 
Snyder's Nose. 

Magdalena, or the Spanish Duel. 
"Bay Billy." 

Return of the Hillside Legion. 
Cuddle Doon. 
Sheridan's Ride. 
The Power of Prayer. 

25 cts. 



Popular Books Sent Free of Postage at the Prices Annexed. 

Frost's Dialogues for Young Folks. A Collection of Origi- 
nal, Moral and Humorous Dialogues. Adapted to the use of School and 
Church Exhibitions, Family Gatherings and Juvenile Celebrations on all 
Occasions. By S. A. Frost. 



Contents. 



Novel Reading 

The Bound Girl 

"Writing a Letter , 

The Wonderful Scholar , 

Slang 

The Language of Flowers . . 

The Morning Call , 

The Spoiled "Child , 

The Little Travelers , 

Little Things 

Generosity , 

Country Cousins , 

Winning the Prize , 

The Unfortunate Scholar 

The Day of Misfortunes 

Jealousy 

The May Queen 

Temptation Resisted 

16mo, Paper Covers. Price. 
Bound in Boards 



M 


C5 


1 


1 




4 




2 


1 


2 


4 






4 




4 




4 


2 


2 


1 


1 




2 




4 




2 








4 


3 




1 


3 




5 


3 





Contents. 



A Place for Everything 

I Want to be a Soldier 

Self-Denial 

The Traveler 

Idleness the Mother of Evil. 

The French Lesson 

Civility Never Lost 

W r ho Works the Hardest ?. . 

The Everlasting Talker 

The Epicure 

True Charity 

Starting in Life 

I Didn't Mean Anything 

Ambition \ 

Choosing a Trade 

The Schoolmaster Abroad.. 

White Lies 

The Hoyden 



2 i fc 



3 
1 

30cts. 
50cts. 



Frost's !KTew Book of Dialogues. A series of entirely new and 

original humorous Dialogues, specially adapted for performance at School 
Anniversaries and Exhibitions, or other Festivals and Celebrations of tho 
Young Folks. 



Contexts. 

Slang versus Dictionary 

Country or City 

Turning the Tables 

The Force of Imagination 

The Modern Robinson Crusoe. 

The Threatened Visit 

The Dandy and the Boor 

"Nature versus Education 

The British Lion and Ameri- 
can Hoosier . 

Curing a Pedant 

Pursuit of Knowledge under 
Difficulties 

The Daily Governess 

The Army and Navy 

Economy is Wealth 



3 












3 






4 


5 






3 


3 






4 


3 






5 


2 










2 


2 


2 




3 



Contents* 



The Intelligence Office 

Cats 

Too Fine and Too Plain 

The Fourth of July Oration . . 

The Sewing Circle.. 

Fix 

The Yankee Aunt. 



The Walking Encyclopedia... . > i> 

The Novel Readers 

The Model Farmer 2 

Buying a Se wing-Machine .... 4 

Sam Weiler's Valentine 2 

The Hungry Traveler 2 

Deaf as a Post 1\ 

The Rehearsal.. 6 

I 



These Dialogues are admirably adapted for home performance, as they re- 
quire no set scenery for their representation. By S. A. Frost. 180 pages, 16mo. 

Paper covers. Price , 30 cts. 

Bound in boards; cloth back..... , 50 ct& 



Popular Books Sent Free of Postage at the Prices Annexed. 

Frost's Humorous and Exhibition Dialogues. This is a col- 
lection of sprightly, original Dialogues, in Prose and Verse, intended to be 
spoken at School Exhibitions. By S. A. Frost. 



Contents. 



Bumps 

Amateur Farming 

The Valentine 

Aunt Bethiah's Journey. . . . 

Will You Advertise ? 

Sallie's Visit to the City 

Country Quiet 

Circumstances Alter Cases.. 

School or Work 

Bella's Visit to Camp 

The Hypochondriac 

Cross Purposes 

Rural Felicity. ... 



Contents. 



The Chatterbox 

Putting on Airs 

Writing a Tragedy 

Morning Calls , 

When the Cat's Away the 

Mice will Play 

Very Bashful 

It Never Bains but it Pours. . . 

A Slight Mistake 

Munchausen Outdone 

The Train to Mauro 

The "Unwilling Witness. 

The Age of Progress 



2 1 

The Dialogues are all good, and will recommend themselves to those who 
desire to have innocent fun — the prevailing feature at a school celebration. 

180 pages. Paper covers. Price 30 cts. 

Bound in boards 50 cts. 



Holmes' Very Little Dialogues for Very Little Folks. 

Containing forty-seven new and original dialogues, with short and easy 
parts, almost entirely in words of one syllable, suited to the capacity and 
comprehension of very young children. 



Contents. 

The Bird's Nest 

AU About Two Dolls .... 

I'm a Man 

What are Little Boys G-ood 

For? 

The Party 

The Rose Bush 

Which is Best? 

The Drum 

Willie's Walk 

The Parrot 

The Story 

How Daisy Went to School. . . 

Clara's Gifts 

What Tommy Found 

TheBlindMan 

Poor Sick Lucy 

Josie's Fault 

The Rain Fairy. , . . 

Guess ! 

The Sick Doll 

Work or Play 

The Boat.. 

Little Mischief 

Paper covers. Price ., 

Bound in boards, cloth back . . . 



2 1 

2 

2 1 

2 

2 
2 

1 1 

2 

1 1 
2 

2 
1 2 

2 
2 

2 
1 1 

3 

o 

1 2 
1 1 
1 1 
2 
1 



Contents. 



The Cow in the Garden 

Our Verse 

Jack's Nap 

The Little Beggars 

The Doll's Sash . 

I Wish 

The Cousin From the City. . . 

Afraid of the Dark 

May's Five Dollar Note 

The Snow 

Harry's Wish 

The Dead Bird 

The Orange Tree 

Little by Little 

Kitty's Bath 

A Stitch in Time Saves Nine 

Keeping Store 

The Stolen Pets , 

Lulu's Picture 

Mother Goose's Party , 

Oh, Dear! 

That Echo 

The New Quarters , 

Visit of Santa Ciaus 



• 30 cts. 

• 50 cts. 



Popular Books Sent Free of Postage at the Prices Annexed. 

JffcBride's Comic Dialogues for School Exhibitions and 
Literary Entertainments, A collection of Original Humor- 
ous Dialogues, especially designed for the development and display of ama- 
teur dramatic talent, and introducing a variety of sentimental, sprightly, 
comic and genuine Yankee characters, and other ingeniously developed ec- 
centricities. By H. Elliott McBride. 



Contents. 

From Punkin Ridge 

Arabella's Poor Relations 

A Row in the Kitchen 

The G-umtown Woman's As- 
sociation 

Advertising for a Husband — 

Ivery Inch a G intleman 

Goose Hollow Farmers Club. 
Reunion of Peter and Jane — 

Awful Boots 

A Pain in the Side 

16mo, illuminated paper covers. Price 30 cts. 

Bound in boards 50 ets. 



6 


3 


2 


2 


1 


2 


2 


(5 


3 


1 


3 


2 


9 




2 


2 


3 


1 


1 


o 



Contents. 

Something to our Advantage . . 

Jimtown Lyceum 

United at Last 

Scene in a Backwoods School.. 
Trouble in a Mormon Family.. 

Josiah's Proposal 

The Stage-Struck Blacksmith. 
A Rumpus in a Shoemaker's 

Shop 

Recess Speeches 



McBride's All Kinds of Dialogues. A collection of Orig- 
inal Humorous and Domestic Dialogues, introducing Yankee, French, Irish, 
Dutch, and other characters. Excellently adapted for Amateur perform- 
ances. By H. Elliott McBride. 



Contents. 



5 


4 


4 


1 


1 


2 


5 




5 


A 


3 


1 


1 


o 


1 


3 


3 


3 


1 


o 


1 


2 


4 


4 



Personating Olders 

Peleg and Patience 

Snarl's Children 

"Woman's Rights 

A Boys' Meeting 

Mr. Worth's Farm Hands 

Charlie's Speech 

Mrs. Thompson's Nephew. . . . 
An Anti-Railroad Meeting .... 

Saved 

The Bungtown Lyceum 



Contents. 

Jeduthan and Jane 

Cured 

Out All Around 

The Pine Yalley Boys 

Marrying a Poetess 

The Old Aunt 

Rejected 

An Evening at Home 

John Robb and Anna Cobb. . . 

A Reconstructed Man 

An Interrupted Proposal 

A Visit from the Smiths 

This book constitutes a second series of McBride's Comic Dialogues, and 
affords an additional variety f the spirited dialogues and short dramatic 
scenes contained in the latter book. They are all entirely original, and develop 
in a marked degree the eccentricities and peculiarities of the various ideal, but 
genuine characters which are represented in them. They are specially adapted 
for School Exhibitions and all other celebrations where the success of thw en- 
tertainment is partly or entirely dependent on the efforts of the young folks. 

Illuminated paper covers. Price 30 cts. 

Bound in board's , 50 cts* 



Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 
MARTINE'S DROLL DIALOGUES 

AND 

LAUGHABLE RECITATIONS. 

By Arthur Martine, author of i( Martine's Letter- Writer," etc. t 
etc. A collection of Humorous Dialogues, Comic Recitations, 
Brilliant Burlesque, Spirited Stump Speeches and Ludicrous 
Farces, adapted for School and other Celebrations and for Home 
Amusement. 

CONTENTS. 



Hints to Amateur Performers in Par- 
lor Theatricals. 

Explanation of Stage Directions, 
with Diagram . 

Prelude to an Evening's Recitations. 
Humorous Poetical Address. 

The Bell and the Gong. Original 
Humorous Recitation. 

Mrs. Dove's Boarding House. Origi- 
nal Amusing Recitation. 

The Wilkins Family. A Recitation 
fall of Puns and Jokes. 

The Lawyer's Stratagem. How he 
tricked the Squire. 

Eulogy on Laughing. A well-known 
popular Recitation. 

Drawing a Long Bow. Dramatic 
Dialogue for 3 males and 1 female. 

Woman. The Origin of Woman's 
Ascendency over Man. 

Yeny Ray nor' s Bear Story. A 
thrilling characteristic narration. 

The Game of Life. The Moral Ap- 
plication of a game at Euchre. 

The Fortune Hunter. Laughable 
Dialogue for 2 males and 3 females. 

The Parson and the Widow. A 
short, Poetical Recitation. 

Hezekiah Stubbins' Fourth of July 
Oration. A Yankee Stump Speech. 

Make your Wills. Ludicrous Farce 
for 7 male characters. 

Mr. Rogers and Monsieur Denise. A 
celebrated Comic Recitation. 

The Darkey Debating Society. Ethi- 
opian Dialogue for2 males. 

The Scandal Monger. Dramatic 
Dialogue for 2 males and 2 females. 

Poor Richard's Sayings. With An- 
notations by Lord Dundreary. 

Prologue to " The Apprentice." 

Address in the character of " Hope." 
A Prologue for an Entertainment. 

Parody on the Declaration of Inde- 
pendence. 



Bombastes Furioso. A Burlesque 

for 7 males. 
Characteristic Address. The wail 

of a Printer's Devil. 
Examining de Bumps. Ethiopian 

Dialogue for 2 males. 
Election Stump Speech. Addressed 

to the Electors of Wethersfield. 
A Matrimonial Tiff. Characteristic 

Dialogue for 1 male and 2 females. 
The Frenchman and the Sheep's 

Trotters. Comic Recitation. 
The Poor Relation; or, Love Me, 

Love my Dog. Comic Drama for 

7 males. 
Yat you Please. Experiences of two 

Frenchmen in England. 
The Babes in the Wood. Burlesque 

for 3 males and 4 females. 
My Aunt. Poetical Recitation. 
Handy Andy's Little Mistakes. 

Laughable Irish Story. 
The Cat Eater. Comic Recitation. 
A Shocking Mistake. Dialogue for 

3 males and 2 females. 
Wanted a Governess. A satirically 

comic Recitation. 
The Rival Broom Makers. Comic 

Recitation. 
Paudeen O'Rafferty's Say-Yoyage. 

Laughable Irish Recitation. 
Mr. Caudle's Wedding Dinner. A 

Curtain Lecture. 
Our Cousins. Negro Dialogue for 2 

male characters. 
Mr. Caudle has been made a Mason. 

Curtain Lecture. 
Address of Sergeant Buzfax at the 

Trial of Pickwick. 
The Wonderful Whalers. A very 

surprising narrative. 
Sam Weller's Yalentine. Character 

Dialogue for 2 males. 
Job Trotter's Secret. Amusing Dia- 
logue, for 3 males. 



188 pages. Paper covers. Price . . ,30 eta. 

Bound in boards, elutli back. . . , „ . JjjQ Qt& 



Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 
BARTON'S COMIC RECITATIONS 



HUMOROUS DIALOGUES. 

Containing a variety of Comic Kecitations in Prose _ and Poetry, 
Amusing Dialogues, Burlesque Scenes, Eccentric Orations, 
Humorous Interludes and Laughable Farces. Designed for 
School Commencements and Amateur Theatricals. Edited by 
Jerome Barton. 

CONTENTS. 



The Stage- Struck Hero. A Banting 

Poetical Eecitation. 
Here She Goes — and There She Goes. 
Pastor M'Knock's Address against 

the Sin of Tippling. 
Old Sugar's Courtship. 
The Bachelor's Reasons for Taking a 

Wife. A Poetical Eecitation. 
The Spanish Yalet and the Waiting 

Maid. Dialogue for 1 male and 1 

female. 
The Jackdaw of Bheims. Eecitation. 
Jonathan and the Englishman. 
Artemus Ward's Trip to Europe. 

Very Humorous Eecitation. 
The Auctioneer and the Lawyer. 
Mr. and Mrs. Skinner. 
The Bachelor and the Bride. 
The Drunkard and his Wife. 
A Western Lawyer's Plea against 

the Pact. 
Beading a Tragedy. Declamation. 
Cast-off Garments. An Extract from 

" Nothing to Wear." 
Hovr to Cure a Cough. 
The Soldier's Return. Ethiopian 

Dialogue for 2 males. 
The Countrymen and the Ass. An 

excellent Fable. 
Come and Go. Poetical Eecitation. 
How they Pop the Question. Eeci- 
tation for Mimicry. 
The Clever Idiot. Poetical. 
The Knights; or, Both Eight and 

Both Wrong. An Excellent Fable. 
How the Lawyer got a Patron Saint. 
Josh Billings on Laughing. 
The Mght after Christmas. 
A Change of System. A Parlor 

Comedy for 2 males and 1 female. 
The Citizen and the Thieves. 
Boggs's Dogs. A Profitable Trade. 
The Smack in School. 



The Tinker and the Miller's Daughter 

An Original Parody. Eecitation. 

The Parsons and the Corkscrew. 
Humorous Eecitation. 

The Old Gentleman who Married a 
Young Wife. Dialogue for 1 male 
and 1 female. 

The Stage-Struck Darkey. Ethiopian 
Interlude for males 

Goody Grim versus Lapstone. Dia- 
logue for 4 males. 

The Woman of Mind. Eecitation. 

Nursery Eeminiscences. 

A Martyr to Science : or, Wanted— 
A Confederate. Farce for 4 males. 

Lodgings for Single Gentlemen. 

TheFarmer and "the Counsellor. 

The Pugilists. A Striking Tale. 

How Pat Saved his Bacon. Charac- 
teristic Narrative. 

The Irish Drummer. A Story of the 
Lash. 

Mike Hooters Bear Story. A Dia- 
lect Eecitation. 

The Critic. Humorous Eecitation. 

Mr. Caudle Wants a Latch-key. 

Humbugging a Tourist. Character 
Dialogue for 3 males. 

The Widow's Victim. Ethiopian In- 
terlude for 2 males and 1 female. 

Josh Billings on the Mule. 

The Tinker and the Glazier. 

Wonderful Dream. Negro Dialogue 
for 2 males. 

An Occasional Address. For a Lady's 
First Appearance. 

An Occasional Prologue. For Open- 
ing a Performance. 

Address on Closing a Performance. 

A Prologue for a Performance by 
Boys. 

An Epilogue for a School Perform- 
ance. 



This is one of the best collection of Humorous Pieces especially adapted to 
the Parlor Stage that has ever been published. 16 mo. 180 pages. 

Paper covers. Price 30 Cts. 

Bound in boards, eloth back. ,,*.... « .50 CtS» 



Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 
BRUDDER BONES' BOOK OF STUMP SPEECHES 



BURXESaUE ORATIONS. 

Also containing Humorous Lectures, Ethiopian Dialogues, Plan- 
tation Scenes, Negro Farces and Burlesques, Laughable inter- 
ludes and Comic Recitations. Compiled and edited by John F. 
Scott. 

CONTENTS. 



If I may so Speak. Burlesque Ora- 
tion. 

Br. Pillsbury's Lecture on Politics. 

Vegetable Poetry. Dialogue for 2 
males. 

Teco Brag's Lecture on Astronomy. 

We saw Her but a Moment. 

Stocks Up. Stocks Down. Darkey 
dialogue for 2 males. 

Brudder Bones' Love Scrapes. 

Stump Speech; or, "Any other Man." 

"War's your Hoss. Dialogue Recital. 

Geology. Dialogue for 2 males. 

Tin-pan-o-ni-on. Pantomime for 
Leader and Orchestra. 

Dr. Puff Stuff's Lecture on Patent 
Medicines. 

Sailing. Dialogue for 2 males. 

Challenge Dance. Ethiopian Act for 
3 males. 

Lecture on Bad Boys. An amusing 
Recitation. 

Tony Pastor's Great Union Speech. 

A Tough Boarding House. Conver- 
sation between 2 Darkeys. 

Sleeping Child. Dialogue for 2 males. 

Ain't I Bight, Eh ? Speech. 

Wonderful Egg. Das-key Dialogue 
for 2 males. 

A Bootblack's Soliloquy. Darkey. 

Lecture to a Fire Company. 

Julius' Peaches. Dialogue for 2 Dar- 
keys. 

De Trouble Begins at Nine. 

The Arkansas" Traveler. Dialogue 
for 2 Violin players. 

Slap Jack. Dialogue for 2 Darkeys. 

Demi-Semi-Centennial Turkey-town 
Celebration. An Oration. 

Uncle Steve's Stump Speech. 

A Midnight Murder. Thrilling. 

Dat's What's de Matter. 

The Freezing Bed Feller. Recitation. 

Mr. and Mrs. Wilkins. 

Paddy Fagan's Pedigree. 

The Rival'Darkeys. Act for 2 males. 

Hans Sourcrout on Signs and Omens. 

Hun-ki-do-ris Fourth of July Oration. 

16 mo. 188 pages. Paper covers. Pr 

Bound in boards, illuminated. . . . 



Josh Billings on Mosquitoes. 

Romantic History of Cap. John Smith. 

A Speech on Women. Humorous. 

An Impulsive Peroration. 

The Bet. Dialogue for 2 Darkeys. 

Old Times gone By. Dialogue with 
songs for 2 Darkeys. 

The Echo. Act for 2 Negroes. 

Sol Slocum's Bugle. Dialect. 

Western Stump Speech. Highfalutin'. 

In the Show Business. Short Dia- 
logue for 2 males. 

' ' We are. ' ' Favorite Stump Oration. 

An Original Burlesque Oration. 

Waiting to see Him off. For 2 males. 

Patriotic Stump Speech. 

De Railroad Accident. Dialogue for 
2 Darkeys. 

The Dutchman's Lecture on the War. 

Professor Unworth's Atlantic Cable 
Lecture. 

The Three old Ladies. Recitation. 

Josh Billings' Lecture onto Musick. 

The Misfortunes of Brudder Bones' 
Lady-Love. Dialogue for 2 males. 

Deaf— In a Horn. Act for 2 males. 

Or any oder Man's Dog. A Speech. 

Happy Uncle Tom. Plantation Scene. 

Stick a Pin dere, Brudder Horace. 

Burlesque Lecture on Woman's 
Rights. 

Dat's wot de "Ledger" says. Dia- 
logue for two Darkevs. 

Goose Hollow Stump Speech. 

De Milk in de Cocoa Nut. 

A Dutchman's Answer. 

Lecture on Cats. Humorous. 

The Patent Screw; or, How to be Re- 
venged. 

The Auctioneer. Characteristic. 

Hints on Courtship. To Young Men. 

A Dutch Recruiting Officer. 

Spirit Rappings. "Roaring Darkey 
Dialogue for 2 males. 

Dar's de Money. From "Othello." 

Let Her Rip. * Burlesque Lecture. 

The Stranger. Ethiopian Scene for 
1 male and 1 female. 

ice 30 cts. 

50 cts. 



Popular Books Sent Free of Portage at tie Prices Annexed. 
Kavanaugh's Juvenile Speaker. For very little boys and 

girls. Containing short and easily-learned Speeches and Dialogues, ex- 
pressly adapted for School Celebrations, May-Day Festivals and other Chil- 
dren's Entertainments. By Mrs. Russell Kavanaugh. This book is just the 
thing for Teachers, as it gives a great number of short pieces for very young 
children, with directions for appropriate dresses. 

It includes a complete programme for a May-Day Festival, with opening 
chorus and appropriate speeches for nineteen boys and girls, including 
nearly forty additional speeches for young and very small children. 

It introduces the May-Pole Dance, plainly described in every detail, and 
forming a very attractive and pleasing exhibition. 

Besides the above, it contains the following Dialogues and Recitations, fol 
two, three or more boys and girls of various ages : 



Salutatory 

Salutatory 

Opening Song 

Opening Recitation 

An Interrupted Recitation. . 
An Imaginative Invention. . 

Speech." 

A Joyful Surprise 

An Oration 

How He Had Him 

The Old Maid 

The Old Bachelor 

Poetry. Prose and Fact 

The Dumb Wife 

To Inconsistent Husbands 

Small Pitchers have Large 

Ears 

Sour Grapes 

Not "Worth While to Hate . . . 
A Strike Among the Flowers . 

A \\ itty Retort 

The Young Critic 

" They Say " 

Speech . .*. 

• ! Angels Can Do ifo More.'".. 

Recitation 

Dialogue 

Holiday Speech , 

The Love-Scrape 

An Old Ballad 

The Milkmaid 

Billy Grimes, the Drover 

Grandmother's Beau 

Speech 

Honesty the Best Policy 



I 




1 






13 


1 


12 


1 


1 


1 






1 


3 


X! 


1 




2 


1 




1 


1 




1 


o 


1 




1 






o 






1 




1 






1 


1 




2 






1 


1 




1 




1 




1 


1 


1 




2 


1 


1 


1 


1 


1 




2 




1 


1 




4 





Balance Due 

Recitation 

The Coming Woman 

Speech 

The Power of Temper 

Truth and Falsehood 

Recitation 

Recitation 

Recitation 

Christmas Forty Years Ago. 

Speech 

Trying Hard 

The School-Boy 

Recitation 

"I Told You So" 

Speech 

Speech 

Speech 

Choosing a Xame 

Babv Bye 

Dialogue 

Little Puss 

Poor Men vs. Rich Men. 
Helping Papa and Mamma... 

Annabel's First Party 

The Spendthrift Doll 

The Little Mushrooms 

Valedictory 

Riding in the Cars 

Riding in the Cars . . . c 

Speech 

The Cobbler's Secret 

Dialogue 

Valedictory 



The whole embraces a hundred and twenty-three easy and very effectivo 
pieces, from which selections can be made to suit the capacities of boys and 
girls of from two to sixteen years of age. 

16mo, illuminated paper cover. Price SO cts. 

" Boards..... 50 Cts. 



Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 

The Young Debater and Chairman's Assistant. By an ex- 
Member of the Philadelphia Bar. Containing instructions how to Form 
and Conduct Societies ; how to Porm and Conduct Clubs and other organ- 
ized Associations ; Pules of Order for the Government of their Business and 
Debates; how to Compose Resolutions, Reports and Petitions; how to 
Organize and Manage Public Meetings, Celebrations, Dinners, Pic-Mcs 
and Conventions ; Duties of the President and other Officers of a Club or 
Society, with Official Porins; Hints on Debate and Public Speaking; 
Porms for Constitutions and By-Laws, To any one who desires to become 
familiar with the duties of an Officer or Committee-man in a Society or 
Association this work will be invaluable, as it contains the most minute in- 
structions in everything that pertains to the routine of Society Business. 

152 pages, paper covers 30 cts. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back 50 Cts. 

How to Conduct a Debate. A Series of Complete Debates, 

Outlines of Debates and Questions for Discussion. In the complete de- 
bates, the questions for discussion are denned, the debate formally opened, 
an array of (brilliant arguments adduced on either side, and the debate closed 
according to parliamentary usages. The second part consists of questions 
for debate, with heads of arguments, for and against, given in a condensed 
form, for the speakers to enlarge upon to suit their own fancy. In addition 
to these are a large collection of debatable questions. The authorities to 
be referred to for information being given at the close of every debate 
throughout the work. By Frederic Powton. 232 pages, 16mo. 

Paper covers 50 CtS, 

Bound in boards, cloth back 75 Cts. 

The Vegetable Garden. Containing thorough instructions for 
Sowing, Planting and Cultivating all kinds of Vegetables, with plain direc- 
tions for preparing, manuring and tilling the soil to suit each plant ; includ- 
ing, also, a summary of the work to be done in a Vegetable Garden during 
each month of the year. This work embraces, in a condensed but thoroughly 
practical form, all the information that either an amateur or a practical 
gardener can require in connection with the successful raising of Vegetables 
and Herbs. It also gives separate directions for the cultivation of some 
seventy different Vegetables, including all the varieties of esculents that 
form the ordinary stock of a kitchen garden or truck farm. By James Hogg. 

140 pages, paper covers 30 Cts. 

Pull cloth 50 CtS. 

The Amateur Trapper and Trap-Maker's Guide. A com- 
plete and carefully prepared treatise on the art of Trapping, Snaring and 
Netting. This comprehensive work is embellished with fifty engraved illus- 
trations ; and these, together with the clear explanations which accompany 
them, will enable anybody of moderate comprehension to make and set any 
of the traps described. It also gives the baits usually employed by the most 
successful Hunters and Trappers, and exposes their secret methods of 
attracting and catching animals, birds, etc., with scarcely a possibility of 

failure. Large 16mo, paper covers 50 cts. 

Bound in boards, cloth back 75 Cts. 

How to Write a Composition. The use of this excellent hand- 
book will save the student the many hours of labor too often wasted in trying 
to write a plain composition. It affords a perfect skeleton of one hundred 
and seventeen different subjects, with their headings or divisions clearly 
defined, and each heading filled in with the ideas which the subject sug- 
gests ; so that all the writer has to do, in order to produce a good composi- 
tion, is to enlarge on them to suit his taste and inclination. 

178 pages, paper covers 30 cts. 

Bound in boards, cloth back * ...50 Cts, 



Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 
BEECHER'S RECITATIONS 



READINGS. 

Humorous, Serious, Dramatic, including Prose and Poetical 
Selections in Dutch, French, Yankee, Irish, Backwoods, Negro 
and other Dialects. Edited by Alvah C. Beecher. This excel- 
lent selection has been compiled to meet a growing demand for 
Public Headings, and contains a number of the favorite pieces 
that have been rendered with telling effect by the most popular 
Public Headers of the present time. It includes, also, choice 
selections for Recitations, and is, therefore, admirably adapted 
for use at Evening Entertainments, School Celebrations, and 
other Festival occasions. 

CONTENTS. 



Miss Maloney goes to the Dentist. 

Lost and Found. Pathetic. 

Mygel Snyder's Bartv. 

Magdalena ; or, the Spanish Duel. 

Jim Wolfe and the Cats. 

The Woolen Doll. A Maniac's Story. 

The Charity Dinner. A Character- 
istic Reading. 

Go-Morrow ; or, Lot's Wife. Negro 
Conversation on Religion. 

The Wind and the Moon. Recitation. 

Dyin' Words of Isaac. 

Maude Muller in Dutch. 

Moses the Sassy ; or, the Disguised 
Duke. Burlesque style. 

The Tarn of the " Nancy Bell." 

Paddy the Piper. Irish Narrative. 

Schneider sees " Leah." 

Caldwell of Springfield. A Story. 

Artemus Ward's Panorama. 

Sorrowful Tale of a Servant Girl. 

How a Frenchman Entertained John 
Bull. 

Tiamondts on der Prain. 

King Robert of Sicily. A Dream. 

Gloverson the Mormon. 

De Pint wid Ole Pete. Negro Dialect. 

Pat and the Pig, An Irish Story. 

The Widow Bedott's Letter to Elder 
Sniffles. Characteristic. 

The Cry of the Children. 

The Dutchman and the Small-pox. 

Sculpin. A Yankee Anecdote. 

Rats. Descriptive Recitation. 

An Introduction. A Reader Intro- 
duces Himself to an Audience. 

A Dutchman's Dolly Yarden. 

" Rock of Ages." A Beautiful Poem. 

Feeding the'Black Fillies. Irish. 

The Hornet. Its Manners and Cus- 
toms. 

Paper covers. Price 

Bound in boards, cloth back, ,«.,,«,,, 



The Glove and the Lions. 

I Yant to Fly. 

That Dog of Jim Smiley's. 

The Story of the Faithful Soul. 

" My New Pittayatees." Character- 
istic. 

Mary Ann's Wedding. 

An Inquiring Yankee. 

The Three Bells. Story of a Ship 
wreck. 

Love in a Balloon. 

Mrs. Brown on the "State of the 
Streets. 

Shoo Flies. ''Excelsior" in Dutch. 

Discourse bv the Rev. Mr. Bosan. 

Without the Children. Pathetic. 

Signor Billsmethi's Dancing Acad- 
emy. 

Der Goot Lookin Shnow. Parody. 

The Celebrated Jumping Frog. 

The Lost Chord. A Memory of the 
Past. 

The Tale of a Leg. An Amusing 
Storv. 

That West-side Dog. 

How Dennis Took the Pledge. 

The Fisherman's Summons. Pathetic 

Badger's Debut as Hamlet. 

How Hezekiah Stole the Spoons. 

Paddy's Dream. 

Yictuals and Drinkr 

How Jake Schneider Went Blind. 

Aurelia's Unfortunate Young Man. 

Mrs. Brown on Modern Houses. 

Farm Yard Song. Country Scene. 

Murphy's Pork Barrel Mystery. 

The Prayer Seeker. Pathetic Poem. 

An Extraordinary Phenomenon. 

The Case of Young Bangs. 

A Mule Ride in Florida. 

Dhree Shkaders. A Dutch Ditty. 

30 cts. 

».» ..50 cts. 



Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 

HOWARD'S RECITATIONS. 

Comic, Serious and Pathetic. Being a carefully selected collec- 
tion of fresh Recitations in Prose and Poetry, suitable for An- 
niversaries, Exhibitions, Social Gatherings, and Evening Par- 
ties; affording, also, an abundance of excellent material for 
practice and declamation. Edited by Clarence J. Howard. 

CONTENTS. 



Miss Malony on the Chinese Ques- 
tion. 

Kit Carson's Eide. A fine descrip- 
tive poetical recitation. 

Buck Fanshaw's Funeral. 

Knocked About. Monologue. 

The Puzzled Dutchman. Dialect 

Shainus O'Brien. Popular recitation 

The Naughty Little Girl. Humorous. 

The Bells of Shandon. Serious poem. 

No Sect in Heaven. A dream. 

Rory O'More's Present to the Priest. 

" Mother's Fool." A Recitation. 

Queen Elizabeth. A comic oration. 

The Starling. A recitation. 

Lord Dundreary's Riddle. 

The Stuttering Lass. Amusing re- 
cital. 

The Irish Traveler. Humorous piece. 

The Remedy as Bad as the Disease. 

A Subject for Dissection. 

The Heathen Chinee. 

Mona's Waters. Pathetic recitation. 

A Showman on the Woodchuck. 

How Happy I'll Be. Moral recitation. 

A Frenchman's Account of the Fall. 

Isabel's Grave. Pathetic recitation. 

The Parson and the Spaniel. 

An Irishman's Letter. 

An Aifectionate Letter. Irish style. 

The Halibut in Love. 

The Merry Soap-Boiler. 

The Unbeliever. A solemn recitation 

The Voices at the Throne. 

Lord Dundreary Proposing. A very 
comic recitation. 

The Fireman. Descriptive piece. 

Paul Revere 1 s Ride. 

Annie and Willie's Prayer. Pathetic 

A Frenchman on Macbeth. 

The New Church Organ. 

Katrina Likes Me Poody Yell. Hu 
morous Ditty in Dutch dialect. 

How to Save a Thousand Pounds. 

How I Got Invited to Dinner. 

Patient Joe. A serious recitation. 

Jimmy Butler and the Owl. 



The Menagerie. A wild beast show. 
Old Quizzle. 

The Infidel and Quak er. Recitation . 
The Lawyer and the Chimney- 

Sweeper. 
Bill Mason's Bride. A railroad yarn. 
Judging by Appearances. 
The Death's Head ; or, Honesty the 

best Policy. 
Betsey and I are Out. 
Betsey Destroys the Paper. 
Father Blake's Collection. 
Blank Verse in Rhyme. 
Roguery Taught by Confession. 
Banty Tim. 

Antony and Cleopatra. 
Deacon Hezekiah. Description of a 

Sanctimonious Hypocrite. 
The Frenchman and the Landlord. 
The Family Quarrel. A dialogue on 

the Sixteenth Amendment. 
The Guess. Old English Recitation. 
The Atheist and Acorn. 
Brother Watkins. Farewell of a 

Southern Minister. 
Hans in a Fix. A Dutchman's dream 

of Matrimony. 
To-Morrow. Poetical recitation. 
The Highgate Butcher. 
The Lucky Call. The Lost Spectacles. 
Challenging the Foreman. 
The Country Schoolmaster. 
The Matrimonial Bugs and the Trav- 
elers. 
Peter Sorghum in Love. Yankee 

story. 
Tim Tuff. A sharp bargain. 
The Romance of Nick Van Stann- 
The Debating Society. Recitation. 
Deacon Stokes. 

A Tribute to our Honored Dead. 
The Dying Soldier. Pathetic poetry. 
The Yankee Fireside. Yankee 

sketches of character. 
The Suicidal Cat. An affecting tale. 
The Son's Wish. A dying father's 

bequest. 



16mo. 180 pages. Paper covers. Price 30 cts. 

Bound in boards, cloth back 50 Ct& 



Popular Books sent Free of Postage at ths Prices annexed. 



CHECKERS AND CHESS. 

Spayth's American Draught Player; or, The Theory and 

Practice of the Scientific Game of Checkers. Simplified and Illustrated 
with Practical Diagrams. Containing- upwards of 1,700 Games and Posi- 
tions. By Henry Spayth. Sixth edition, with over three hundred Correc- 
tions and IraproVements. Containing*: The Standard Laws of the Game— 
Full instructions— Draught Board Numbered— Names of* the Games, and 
how formed — The " Theory of the Move and its Changes " practically ex- 
plained and illustrated with Diagrams— Playing Tables for Draught Clubs- 
New Systems of numbering the Board — Prefixing signs to the Variations — 
List of "Draught Treatises and Publications chronologically arranged. 
Bound in cloth, gilt side and back S3. 00 

Spayth's Game of Draughts. Bj Henry Spayth. This book 
is designed as a supplement to the author's first work, "The American 
Draught Player"; but it is complete in itself. It contains lucid instructions 
for beginners, laws of the game, diagrams, the score of 34 games, together 
with 34 novel, instructive and ingenious " critical positions." 
Cloth, gilt back and side $1.50 

Spayth's Draughts or Checkers for Beginners. This trea- 
tise was written by Henry Spayth, the celebrated player, and is by far the 
most complete and instructive elementary work on Draughts ever published. 
It is profusely illustrated with diagrams of ingenious stratagems, curious 
positions aud perplexing problems, and contains a great variety of interest- 
ing and instructive Games, progressively arranged and clearly explained 
with notes, so that the learner may easily "comprehend them. With the aid 
of this Manual a beginner may soon become a proficient in the game. 
Cloth, gilt side 75 cts. 

Scattergood's Game of Draughts, or Checkers, Simplified 

and Explained. "With practical Diagrams and Illustrations, together with a 
Checker-Board, numbered and printed in red. Containing the Eighteen 
Standard Games, with over 200 of the best variations, selected from various 
authors, with some never before published. By D. Scattergood. 
Bound in cloth, with flexible covers 50 cts, 

Harache's Manual of Chess. Containing a description #f the 
Board and Pieces, Ciiess Notation, Technical Terms, with diagrams illus- 
trating them, Laws of the Game, Relative Value of Pieces. Prelim in^- y 
Games for Beginners, Fifty Openings of Games, giving «'l the latest dis- 
coveries of Modern Masters, with the best games and copious notes. Twenty 
Endings of Games, showing easiest >-ays of effecting Checkmate, Thirty- 
six ingenious Diagram Problems, and sixteen curious Chess Stratagems, 
being one of the best Books for Beginners ever published. By N. Marache. 

Bound in boards, cloth back « 50 Cts. 

Bound in cloth, gilt side * 75 Cts. 

DICK & FITZGERALD, Publishers, 

Bos 3975. NEW YOR.K. 



Popular Book3 sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 

~ READINGS AND RECITATIONS. 

Kavanaugh's Juvenile Speaker. For very Little Boys 

and Girls. Containing short and easily-learned Speeches and Dialogues, 
expressly adapted tor School Celebrations. May-Day Festivals and other 
Children's Entertainments. Embracing one hundred and twenty-three eti'ee- 
tive pieces. Jby Mrs. liussell Kavanaugh. Illuminated paper coyer. . 30 cts. 
Bound in boards, cloth back 50 cts. 

Dick's Series of Recitations and Readings, Eos. Ito 7. Com- 
prising a carefully compiled selection of Humorous, Pathetic, Eloquent, 
Patriotic and Sentimental Pieces in Poetry and Prose, exclusively designed 
for Kecitation or Heading. Edited by ^Yrii. IS Dick. Each number of the 

Series contains about 18j pages. Illun in led paper cover, each 30 cts. 

Bound in full cloth 50 cts* 

Beecher's Recitations and Readings. Hnmorons, Serious, 

Dramatic, including Prose and Poetical Selections in Dutch, Yankee, Irish, 

2s egro and other Dialects. J 8 J pages, paper covers 30 Cts, 

Bound in boards, cloth back 50 Cts. 

HowarcTs Recitations. Comic, Serious and Pathetic. Being 
a collection of fresh Recitations in Prose and Poetry, suitable for Exhibi- 
tions and Evening Parties. 18U pages, paper covers 30 Cts. 

Bound in boards, cloth back 50 Cts. 

Spencer's Book of Comic Speeches and Hnmorons Recita- 
tions. A collection of Comic Speeches, Humorous Prose and Poetical 
liecitations, Laughable Dramatic Scenes and Eccentric Dialect Stories. 

19^ pages, paper covers | 30 cts. 

Boundln boards, cloth back 50 Cts* 

"Wilson's Book of Recitations and Dialogues. Containing a 

choice selection of Poetical and Prose Recitations. ^Designed as an Assist- 
ant to Teachers and Students in preparing Exhibitions. 

188 pages, paper covers £® CtS. 

BoundTin boards, with cloth back oO Cts. 

Barton's Comic Recitations and Humorous Dialogues. A 

variety of Comic Recitations in Prose and Poetry, Eccentric Orations 

and Laughable Interludes. 180 pages, paper covers 30 Cts. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back 0U Cts. 

Brudder Bones' Book of Stump Speeches and Burlesque 

Orations. Also containing Humorous Lectures, Ethiopian Dialogues, Plan- 
tation Scenes, Negro Farces and Burlesques, Laughable Interludes and 

Comic Recitations. 1 88 pages, paper covers u U Cts. 

Bound in boards, illuminated au cis. 

Martine's Droll Dialogues and Laughable Recitations. A 

collection of Humorous Dialogues, Comic Recitations, Brilliant Burlesques 

and Spirited Stum p Speeches. 1 88 pages, paper covers o U Cts. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back V Cts. 

WE WILL SEND A CATALOGUE containing a complete list 

of all the pieces in each of the above books, to any person who 

will send us their address. Send for one. 

DICK & FITZa-ERALD, Publishers, 

Box 3975. NEW YORK. 



Popular Eook3 sent Free cf Postage at the Prices annexed. 

DIALOGUE BOOKS. 

The Dialogues contained in these hooks are all entirely original; 
some of them being arranged for one sex only, and others for 
both sexes combined. They develop in a marked degree the ec- 
centricities and peculiarities of the various characters which are 
represented in them; and are specially adapted for School Ex- 
hibitions and other celebrations, which mainly depend upon the 
efforts of the young folks, 

MeBride's Comic Dialogues. A collection of twenty-three 

Original Humorous Dialogues, especially designed for the display of Ama- 
teur dramatic talent, and" introducing a variety of sentimental, sprightly, 
comic and genuine Yankee characters, and other ingeniously developed eccen- 
tricities. By H. Elliott McBride. 180 pages, illuminated paper covers. .30 cts. 
Bound in boards 50 Ct3. 

MeBride's All Kinds of Dialogues. A collection cf twenty- 

five Original, Humorous and Domestic Dialogues, introducing Yankee, 
Irish. Dutch and other characters. Excellently adapted for Amateur Per- 
formances. 180 pages, illuminated paper covers 30 cts. 

Bound in boards..." 50 Cts. 

Holmes' Very Little Dialogues for Very Little Folks. Con- 
taining forty-seven IRew and Original Dialogues, with short and easy parts, 
almost entirely in words of one syllable, suited to the capacity and comprc 

hensionof very young children. 'Paper covers 30 Cts* 

Bound in boards, cloth back 50 Cts. 

Frost's Dialogues for Young Folks. A collection of thirty- 
six Original, Moral and Humorous Dialogues. Adapted for boys and girls 
between the ages of ten and fourteen years. By S, A. Frost. 

17fi pages, paper covers .* 30 Cts. 

Bound in boards 53 cts. 

Frost's New Book of Dialogues. Containing twenty-nine en- 
tirely Xew and Original Humorous Dialogues for boys and girls between the 

ages of twelve and fifteen years. 180 pages, paper covers 30 ct3. 

Bound in boards, cloth back. 50 Ct3. 

Frost's Humorous and Exhibition Dialogues. This is a col- 
lection of twenty-five Sprightly Original Dialogues.^in Prose and Yerse, in- 
tended to be spoken at School Exhibitions. 1T8 pages, paper covers. 30 ct-S. 
Bound in boards 50 Cts. 

WE WILL SEND A CATALOGUE free to any address, con- 
taining a list of all the Dialogues in each of the above books, 
together with the number of boys and girls required to perform 
them. 

DICK & FITZGERALD, Publishers, 

Eox 2973. NEW YORK, 



Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. _ 

AMATEUR THEATRICALS. " 

All the plays in the following excellent books are especially de- 
signed for Amateur performance. The majority of them are in 
one act and one scene, and may be represented in any moderate- 
sized parlor, without much preparation of costume or scenery. 

Burton's Amateur Actor. A complete guide to Private Theat- 
ricals; giving- plain directions for arranging, decorating and lighting the 
Stage; with rules and suggestions for mounting-, rehearsing and perform- 
ing "all kinds of Plays, Parlor Pantomimes and Shadow Pantomimes. 1 ii lis. 
trated with numerous engravings, and including a selection of original Plays, 

with Prologues, Epilogues, etc. .tinio, illuminated paper, cover 30 CIS. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back 50 CtS. 

Parlor Theatricals; or, Winter Evenings' Entertainment. 

Containing Acting Proverbs, Dramatic Charades, Drawing-Room Panto- 
mimes, a Musical Burlesque and an amusing Farce, with instructions for 

Amateurs. Illustrated with engravings. Paper covers 60 CtS. 

Bound in boards, cloth back. 50 CtS. 

Howard's Book of Drawing-Room Theatricals, A collec- 
tion of twelve short and amusing plays. Some of the plays are adapted fol 

performers of one sex only. 186 pages, paper covers 60 CtS. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back 50 ctS. 

Hudson's Private Theatricals. A collection of fourteen humor- 
ous plays. Four of these plays are adapted for performance by males only, 

and three are for females. 180 pages, paper covers 80 ctS 

Bound in boards, with cloth back 50 CtS. 

Hugent's Burlesque and Musical Acting Charades, Con- 
taming teu Charades, all in different styles, two of which are easy and effec- 
tive Comic Parlor Operas, with Music and Piano-forte Accompaniments. 

17b' pages, paper covers * p 30 ctS. 

Bound in boards, cloth back ' : 50 CtS. 

Frost's Dramatic Proverbs and Charades, Containing eleven 

Proverbs and fifteen Charades, some of which a,re for Dramatic Performance, 
and others arranged for Tableaux Vivants. 116 pages, paper covers. 60 ctS. 
Bound in boards, with cloth back 50 ct>. 

Frost's Parlor Acting Charades. These twelve excellent and 

original Charades are arranged as short parlor Comedies and Farces, full of 
brilliant repartee and amusing situations. 182 pages, paper covers. .30 cts. 
Illuminated boards 50 cts. 

Frost's Book of Tableaux and Shadow Pantomimes. A 

collection of Tableaux Vivants and Shadow Pantomimes, with stage in- 
structions for Costuming. Grouping, etc. 180 pages, paper covers.. 30 cts. 
Bound in boards, with cloth back ..." 50 Cts. 

Frost's Amateur Theatricals. A collection of eight original 

plays : all short, amusing and new. 1 80 pages, paper covers • .30 cts. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back 50 CtS. 

WE WILL SEND A CATALOGUE containing a complete list 
of all the pieces in each of the above books, together with the 
number of male and female characters in each play, to any per- 
son who will send us their address. Send for one. 

DICK & FITZGERALD, Publishers, 

Box £975. NEW YORSi, 



Popular Books sent Tree of Postage at the Prices annexed. 
Mrs. Partington's Carpet-Bag of Fun. A collection of over 

1,000 of the mosb Comical Stories, Amusing Adventures, Side-Splitting 
dokes, Cheek-extending Poetry, Funny Conundrums, Queer Sayings of 
Mrs. Partington, Heart-Rending Puus, Witty Repartees, etc. The v, hole 
illustrated by about 150 comic wood-cats. 
12mo, 300 pages, ornamented paper covers 75 ct3. 

Harp of a Thousand Strings; or, Laughter for a Life-time. 

A book of nearly 400 pages ; bound in a handsome gilt cover; crowded full 
of funny stories, besides being illustrated with over" 200 comic engravings, 
by Darley, McLennan, Bellew, etc Si.DU 

Chips from Uncle Sam's Jack-Knife. Illustrated with over 

103 Comical Engravings, and comprising a collection of over 500 Laughable 
Stories, Funny Adventures. Comic Poetry. Queer Conundrums, Terrific 
Puns and Sentimental Sentences. Large octavo ^5 cts. 

Fox's Ethiopian Comicalities. Containing Strange Sayings, 
Eccentric Doings. Burlesque Speeches, Laughable Drolleries and Funny 
Stories, as recited by the celebrated Ethiopian Comedian 10 ct3. 

Ned Turner's Circus Joke Book. A collection of the best 

Jokes, Bon Mots, Repartees, Gems of Wit and Funny Sayings and Doings 
of the celebrated Equestrian Clown and Ethiopian Comedian, Ned Tur- 
ner 10 Ct3. 

EM Turner's Black Jokes. A collection of Funny Stories, 
Jokes and Conundrums, interspersed with Witty Sayinjrs and Humorous 
Dialogues, as given by Ned Turner, the celebrated Ethiopian Delinea- 
tor. 10 ets. 

Wed Turner's. Clown Joke Book. Containing the best Jokes 
and Gems of Wit, composed and delivered by the favorite Equestrian Clown, 
Ned Turner. Selected and arranged by G. E. G 10 cts. 

Charley White's Joke Book, Containing a full expose of all 
the most laughable Jokes, Witticisms, etc., as told by the celebrated 
Ethiopian Comedian, Charles White 10 cts. 

Black Wit and Barky Conversations. By Charles "White. 

Containing a large collection of laughable xinecdotes, Jokes, Stories, Witti- 
cisms and Darky Conversations .10 et3. 

Yale College Scrapes ; or, How the Boys Go It at Hew 

Haven. This is a book of 114 pages, containing accounts of ail the famous 
"Scrapes" and "Sprees" of which students of Old Yale have been 
guilty for the last quarter of a century 25 et3. 

laughing 1 Gas. An Encyclopedia of TTit, "Wisdom and "Wind. 

By Sam Slick, Jr. Comically illustrated with 100 original and laughable 
Engravings, and nearly LOO side-extending Jokes .SO cts. 

The Knapsack Full of Fun; or, 1, 000 Rations of La-ughter. 

Illustrated with over 100 comical engravings, and containing Jokes and 
Funny Stories. By Doesticks and other witty writers. Large quarto . .30 Cts. 

The Comical Adventures of David Buffieks. Illustrated with 

over one hundred Funny Engravings. This is a book full of fun 25 cts. 

The Plate of Chowder. A Dish for Funny Fellows. Appro- 
priately illustrated with 130 comic engravings. 12mo, paper covers. . 1 j cts. 



Popular Books seat Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 

Tlie Young Debater and Chairman's Assistant. By an ex- 
Member of the Philadelphia Bar. Containing instructions how to Form 
and Conduct Societies ; how to Form and Conduct Clubs and other organ- 
ized Associations ; Kules of Order for the Government of their Business and 
Debates; how to Compose Resolutions, Reports and Petitions; how to 
Organize and Manage Public Meetings, Celebrations, Dinners, Pic-Kics 
and Conventions ; Duties of the President and other Officers of a Club or 
Society, with Official Forins; Hints on Debate and Public Speaking; 
Porms for Constitutions and By-Laws. To any one who desires to become 
familiar with the duties of an Officer or Committee-man in a Society or 
Association this work will be invaluable, as it contains the most minute in- 
structions in everything; that pertains to the routine of Society Business. 

152 pages, paper covers 30 cts. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back 50 Cts. 

How to Conduct a Debate. A Series of Complete Debates, 

Outlines of Debates and Questions for Discussion. In the complete de- 
bates, the questions for discussion are defined, the debate formally opened, 
an array of brilliant arguments adduced on either side, and the debate closed 
according to parliamentary usages. The second part consists of questions 
for debate, with heads of arguments, for and against, given in a condensed 
form, for the speakers to enlarge npon to suit their own fancy. In addition 
to these are a large collection of debatable questions. The authorities to 
be referred to for information being given at the close of every debate 
throughout the work. By Prederio Eowton. 232 pages, 16mo. 

Paper covers 50 CtS, 

Bound in boards, cloth back 75 Cts. 

The Vegetable Garden. Containing thorough instructions for 
Sowing, Planting and Cultivating all kinds of Vegetables, with plain direc- 
tions for preparing, manuring and tilling the soil to suit each plant ; includ- 
ing, also, a summary of the work to be clone in a Vegetable Garden during 
each month of the year. This work embraces, in a condensed but thoroughly 
practical form, all the information that either an amateur or a practical 
gardener can require in connection with the successful raisin got Vegetables 
and Herbs. It also gives separate directions for the cultivation of some 
seventy different Vegetables, including all the varieties of esculents that 
form the ordinary stock of a kitchen garden or truck farm. By James Hogg. 

140 pages, paper covers 30 cts. 

Pull cloth 50 Cts. 

TKe Amateur Trapper and Trap-Maker's Guide. A com- 
plete and carefully prepared treatise on the art of Trapping, Snaring and 
Netting. This comprehensive work is embellished with fifty engraved illus- 
trations; and these, together with the clear explanations which accompany 
them, will enable anvbbdy of moderate comprehension to make and set any 
of the traps described. It also gives the baits usually employed by the most 
successful Hunters and Trappers, and exposes their secret methods of 
attracting and catching animals, birds, etc., with scarcely a possibility of 

failure. Large Hiino, paper covers <30 Cts. 

Bound in boards, cloth back 75 Cts. 

How to Write a Composition. The use of this excellent hand- 
book will save the student the many hours of labor too often wasted in trying 
to write a plain composition. It affords a perfect skeleton of one hundred 
and seventeen different subjects, with their headings or divisions clearly 
denned, and each heading filled in with the ideas which the subject sug- 
gests ; so that all the writer has to do, in order to produce a good composi- 
tion, is to enlarge on them to suit his taste and inclination. 

178 pages, paper covers « 30 cts. 

Bound in boards, cloth back „ ...... * u0 CtS. 



Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 



Barber's American Book of Ready-Made Speeches. Con- 

tailing 159 original examples of Humorous and Serious speeches, suitable 
for every possible occasion where a speech may be called for, together with 
appropriate replies to each. Includin 



Of -Hand Speeches on a Variety of 
Subjects. 

Miscellaneous Speeches. 

Toasts and Sentiments for Public and 
Private Entertainments. 

Preambles and Resolutions of Con- 
gratulation, Compliment and Conr 
dolence. 



Presentation Spceclies. 

Convivial Speeches. 

Festival Speeches. 

Addresses of Congratulation. 

Addresses of Welcome. 

Addresses of Compliment. 

Political Speeches. 

Dinner and Supper Speeches for Clubs, 
etc. 

With this book any person may prepare himself to make a neat little speech, 
or reply to one when called upon to do so. They are ail short, appropriate 

and witty, and even ready speakers may profit by them. Paper 50 Cts. 

Bound in boards, cloth back 7«> CtS. 

Day's American Ready-Reckoner. By B. H. Day. This 

Iteady-Keckoner is composed of Original Tables, which are positively cor- 
rect, having- been revised in the most careful manner. It is a book of 192 
pages, and embraces more matter th m 500 pa^es of any other Reckoner. It 
contains: Tables for Rapid Calculations of Aggregate Values, Wages, Sal- 
aries, Board. Interest Money, etc.; Tables of Timber and Plank Measure- 
ment ; Tables of Board and Log Measurement, and a great variety of Tables 
and useful calculations which it would be impossible to enumerate in an adver- 
tisement of this limited space. All the information in this valuable book is 
given in a simple manner, and is made so plain, that any person can use it 
at once without any previous study or loss Of time. 

Round iu boards, with cloth back - 50 cts. 

Bound in cloth, gilt back.... . 75 Cts. 

The Art and Etiquette of Making Love. A Manual of Love, 

Courtship and Matrimony. It tells 



How to cure bashfulness, 

Hovj to commence a courtship, 

How to please a sweetheart or lover, 

How to write a love-letter, 

How to u pop the question,' 1 '' 

How to act before and after aproposal f 

How to accept or reject a proposal, 



How to break of an engagement, 
How to act after an engagement, 
How to act as bridesmaid or grooms- 

man, 
How the etiquette of a wedding and the 

after reception should be observed, 



And, in fact, how to fulfill every duty and meet every contingency con- 
nected with courtship and matrimony/ 178 pages. Paper covers ....30 Cts. 
Round in boards, cloth, back 50 Cts. 

Frank Converse's Complete Banjo Instructor Without a 

Master. Containing a choice collection of Banjo Solos and Hornpipes, Walk 
Arounds, Reels and Jigs, Songs and Banjo Stories, progressively arranged 
and plainly explained, enabling the learner to become a proficient banjoist 
without the aid of a teacher. The necessary explanations accompany each 
tune, and are placed under the notes on each page, plainly showing the 
string required, the finger to be used for stopping it, the manner of striking, 
and the number of times it must be sounded. The Instructor is illustrated 
with diagrams and explanatory symbols. 100 pages. Bound in boards, 
cloth back 50 cts. 

Hard Words Made Easy. Rules for Pronunciation and Accent ; 

with instructions how to pronounce French, Italian, German, Spanish, and 
other foreign names 12 CtS. 



Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 
Karey & Xnowlson's Complete Horse Tamer and Farrier. 

A New and Improved Edition, containing: Mr. Rarey's Whole Secret of 
Subduing- and Breaking Vicious Horses; His Improved Plan of Managing 
Young (Jolts, and Breaking them to the Saddle, to Harness and the Sulky. 
Rules for Selecting a Good Horse, and for Feeding Horses. Also the Com- 
plete Farrier or Horse Doctor; being the result 01 fifty years' extensive 
practice of the author, John C. Knowisou, during his life an English Farrier 
of high popularity; containing the latest discoveries in the cure of Soavin. Il- 
lustrated with descriptive engravings. Bound in boards, cloth back. 50 cts. 

How to Amuse an Evening Party. A Complete collection of 

Home Recreations. Profusely illustrated with over Two Hundred line 
wood-cuts, containing Hound (lames and Forfeit Games, Parlor Magic and 
Curious Puzzles, Comic Diversions and Parlor Tricks, Scientific Recreations 
and Evening Amusements. A young man with this volume nmy render him- 
self the beau ideal of a delightful companion at every party, and win the 
hearts of all the ladies, by his powers of entertainment. Pound in orna- 
mental paper covers . . „ gg c + s> 

Bound in boards, with cloth back. 5Q c t s ' t 

Frost's Laws and By-Laws of American Society. A Com- 

Elete Treatise on Etiquette. Containing plain and Reliable Directions for 
)eportment in every Situation in Life, by S. A. Frost, author of "Frost's 
Letter- Writer," etc. This is a book of ready reference on the usages of So- 
ciety at all times and on all occasions, and also a reliable guide in the details 

of deportment and polite behavior. Paper covers SO cts. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back 50 cts. 

Frost's Original Letter- Writer. A complete collection of Orig- 
inal Letters'and Xotes, upon every imaginable subject of Every-Day Life, 
with plain directions about everything connected with writing a letter. By 
S. A. Frost. To which is added a comprehensive Table of Synonyms, alone 
worth double the price asked for the book. We assure our readers that it i3 
the best collection of letters ever published in this country; they are written 
in plain and natural language, and elegant in style without being high-flown. 
Bound in boards, cloth back, with illuminated sides .50 cts. 

North's Book of Love-Letters. "With directions how to write 

and when to use them, and 120 Specimen Letters, suitable for Lovers of any 
a^e and condition, and under all circumstances. Interspersed with the au- 
thor's comments thereon. The whole forming a convenient Hand-book of 
valuable information and counsel for the use of those who need friendly 
guidance and advice in matters of Love, Courtship and Marriage. By In- 

goldsby Xorth. Bound in boards • .5 J Cts. 

Bound in cloth 75 cts. 

How to Shine in Society; or, The Science of Conversation. 

Containing the principles, laws and general usages of polite society, includ- 
ing easily applied hints and directions for commencing and sustaining an 
agreeable conversation, and for choosing topics appropriate to the time, 
place and company, thus affording immense assistance to the bashful and 
diffident. lOmo. Paper covers ^5 cts. 

The Poet's Companion. A Dictionary of all Allowable Rhymes 
in the English Language. This gives the Perfect, the Imperfect and Allow- 
able Rhymes, and will enable vou to ascertain to a certainty whether any 
word can be mated. It is invaluable to any one who desires to court the 
Muses, and is used by some of the best writers in the country L ; 5 ct?. 

Mind Your Stops. Punctuation made plain, and Composition 
simplified for Readers, Writers and Talkers 12 cts* 

Five Hundred French Phrase?. A book giving all the French 

words and maxims in general use in writing the English language. .. 1.3 ctak 



Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 

Sut Lovin^OOd. Tarns spun by "A Fat'ral Born Durn'd Fool" 
"Warped aiu? Wove for Public Wear, by George W. Harris. Illustrated 
with eight line full page engravings, from designs by Howard. It would bo 
difficult', we think, to cram a larger amount of pungent humor into 3UJ 
pao-es than will be found in this really funny book. The Preface and ded- 
ication are models of sly simplicity, and the 24 Sketches which follow are 
among the best specimens of broad burlesque to which the genius of the 
ludicrous, for which the Southwest is so distinguished, has yet given birth. 
12mo, tinted paper, cloth, gilt edges v_.^ J 

Uncle Josh's Trunkful of Fun. Containing a rich collection of 

Comical Stories, Cruel Setts, j New Conundrums, Mirth-Provoking 

Side- Splitting Jokes, Humorous Poet- I Speeches, 

ry Curious Puzzles, Amusing Card 

Quaint Parodies, Burlesque Scr- Tricks, and 
iKons I Astonishing Feats of Parlor-Magic. 
This book is illustrated with nearly 200 funny engravings, and contains, in 
64 large octavo double-column pages, at least three times as much reading 
matter and real fun as any other book of the price 15 Cts. 

The Strange and WonderM Adventures of Bachelor 

Biitterily. Showing how his passion for Natural History completely 
eradicated the tender passion implanted in his breast— also detailing his 
Extraordinary Travels, both by sea and land — his Hair-breadth Escapes 
from fire and cold — his being come over by a Widow with nine small 
children— his wonderful Adventures with the Doctor and the Fiddler, and 
other Perils of a most extraordinary nature. The whole illustrated by about 
2u0 engravings 30 CtS, 

The Laughable Adventures of Messrs. Brown, Jones end 

Robinson. Showing where they went, and how they went, what they did, 
and haw they did it. Here is a book which will make you split your sides 
laughing. It shows the comical adventures of three jolly young greenhorns, 
who went traveling, and got into all manner of scrapes and funny adven- 
tures. Illustrated with nearly 200 thriliingly-comic engravin gs . . . .*. 3 CtS. 

The Mishaps and Adventures of Obadiah Oldbuck. This 

humorous and curious book sets forth, with 188 comic drawings, the mis- 
fortunes which befell Mr. Oldbuck ; and also his five unsuccessful attempts 
to commit suicide — his hair-breadth escapes from fire, water and famine— 
his affection for his poor dog, etc. To look over this book will make you 
laugh, and you cant help it cj ets. 

Jack Johnson's Jokes for the Jolly. A collection of Ftnmy 

Stories, Droll Incidents, Queer Conceits and Apt Eepartees. Illustrating 
the Drolleries of Border Life in the West, Yankee Peculiarities, Dutch 
Blunders, French Sarcasms, Irish Wit and Humor, etc., with short Ludic- 
rous Xarratives ; making altogether a Medley of Mirthful Morsels for the 
Melancholy that will drive away the blues, and cause the most misanthropic 
mortal to laugh. Illustrated paper covers 25 Cts. 

Snipsnaps and Sniekerings of Simon Snodqrass. A collec. 

tion of Droll and Laughable" Stories, illustrative of Irish Drolleries and 
Blarney, Ludicrous Dutch Blunders. Queer Yankee Tricks and Dodges, 
Backwoods Boasting. Humors of Horse-trading, Xeirro Comicalities. Per- 
ilous Franks of Fighting Men. Frenchmen's Queer Mistakes. Scotch Shrewd- 
ness, and other phases of eccentric character, thrit go to make up a perfect 
and com plete'Medley of Wit and Humor. It is also full of funny engrav- 
ings. .25 cts. 



Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 

Madame Le Normand's Fortune Teller. An entertaining 

book, said to have been written by Madame Lc Kormand, the celebrated 
French Fortune Teller, who was frequently consulted by the Emperor 
Napoleon. A party of ladies and gentlemen may amuse themselves for 
hours with this curious book. It tells fortunes by "'The Chart of Fate " (a 
large lithographic chart), and gives 624 answers to questions on every imag- 
inable subject that may happen in the future. It explains a variety of ways 
for telling fortunes by Cards and Dice; gives a list of 79 curious old su- 
perstitions and omens, and 187 weather omens, and winds up with the cele- 
brated Oraculum of Napoleon. We will not endorse this book as infallible; 
but we assure our readers that it is the source of much mirth whenever in- 
troduced at a gathering of ladies and gentlemen. Bound in boards. 40 Cts. 

The Fireside Magician; or, The Art of Natural Magic 

Made Easy. Being a scientific explanation of Legerdemain, Physical 
Amusement, Recreative Chemistry, Diversion with Cards, and of all the 
mysteries of Mechanical Magic, with feats as performed by Herr Alexander, 
Robert Heller, Robert Houdin, " The Wizard of the North," and distin- 
guished conjurors — comprising two hundred and fifty interesting mental and 
physical recreations, with explanatory engravings. 132 pages, paper. 80 ct3. 
Bound in boards, cloth back 50 Ct3. 

Howard's Book of Conundrums and Riddles. Containing 

over 1,200 of the best Conundrums, Riddles, Enigmas, Ingenious Catches 
and Amusing Sells ever invented. This splendid collection of curious para- 
doxes will afford the materialfor a never-ending feast of fun and amusement. 
Any person, with the assistance of this book, may take the lead in enter- 
tabling a company, and keep them in roars of laughter for hours together. 

Paper covers 30 cts. 

Bound in boards, cloth back 50 Cts. 

The Parlor Magician; or, One Hundred Tricks for the 

Drawing-Boom. Containing an extensive and miscellaneous collection of 
Conjuring and Legerdemain, embracing: Tricks with Dice, Dominoes and 
Cards; Tricks with Ribbons. Rings and Fruit; Tricks with Coin, Hand- 
kerchiefs and Balls, etc. The whole illustrated and clearly explained with. 

121 engravings. Paper covers 30 Ct3. 

Bound in boards, with cloih back 50 Cts. 

Book of Riddles and 500 Home Amusements. Containing 

a curious collection of Riddles, Charades and Enigmas ; Rebuses, Anagrams 
and Transpositions; Conundrums and Amusing Puzzles; Recreations in 
Arithmetic, and Queer Sleights, and numerous other Entertaining Amuse- 
ments. Illustrated with 60 engravings. Paper covers 3 cts. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back 50 Cts, 

The Book of Fireside Games. Containing an explanation of a 

variety of Witty, Rollicking. Entertaining and Innocent Games and Amus- 
ing Forfeits, suited to the Family Circle as a Recreation. This book is just 
the thing for social gatherings, parties and pic-nics. Paper covers .30 Ct3. 
Bound in boards, cloth back 50 Ct3. 

The Book of 500 Curious Puzzles. Containing a large collec- 
tion of Curious Puzzles, Entertaining Paradoxes, Perplexing Deceptions in 
Numbers, Amusing Tricks in Geometry; illustrated with a great variety of 

Engravings. Paper covers 30 Cts. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back 50 Cts. 

Parlor Tricks Wfrh Cards. Containing explanations of all the 

Trick-! and Deceptions with Plaving Cards ever invented. The whole illus- 
trated and made plain and easy with 70 engravings. Paper covers.. 30 Ct3, 
'.bound in boards, with cloth back • • .50 CtS. 



Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 
Day's Book-Keeping Without a Master. Containing the Ru- 

dimeuts of Book-keeping in Single and Double Entry, together with the 
proper Forms and Rules for opening and keeping condensed and general Book 
Accounts. This work is printed in a beautiful script type, and hence com- 
bines the advantages of a haudsorae style of writing wiih its very simple and 
easily understood" lessons in Book-keepiug. The several pages have ex- 
planations at the bottom to assist the learner, in small type. As a pattern 
for opening book accounts it is especially valuable— particularly for those who 
are not well posted iu the art. Day's i3oOK-J£EEPUSG is the size of a regular 
quarto Account Book, and is made to lie hat open lor convenience in 
use J CtS. 

Blank Books for Day s Book-Keeping. "We have for sale 

Books of 9H payees each, ruled according to the patterns mentioned on page 
3 of Day's Book-Keeping, suitable for practice of the learner, viz.: Xo. i— 
For General Book-keeping, pages 4 and;>; for Cash Account on page 13; 
for Dav-Book in Single Entry, pages id to 25. Ko. 2— For Condensed Ac- 
counts", pages 9 and id ; for* Gash Account, page j2; for Journal in Double 
Entry, pages 34 to 43. 2so. 3 -For Ledgers in Double or Single Entry, pages 
36 to 44. Each Number 5U CtS. 

How to Learn the Sense of 3,000 French Words in one 

Hour. This ingenious little book actually accomplishes all that its title 
claims. It is a fact that there are at least three thousand words iu the 
French language, forming a large proportion of those used in ordinary con- 
versation, which are spelled exactly the same as in English, or become the 
same by very slight and easily understood changes iu tneir termination. 1G- 
mo, illuminated paper covers 25 CtS. 

How to Speak in Public; or, The Art of Extempore Oratory. 

A valuable manual for those who desire to become ready off-hand speakers; 
containing clear directions how to arrange ideas logically and quickly, in- 
cluding illustrations, by the analysis of speeches delivered by some of the 
greatest orators, exemplifying the importance of correct emphasis, clearness 
of articulation, and appropriate gesture. Paper covers 25 CU. 

Live and Learn. A guide for all those who wish, to speak and 
write correctly; particularly intended as a Book of Reference for the solu- 
tion of dilticulties connected with Grammar, Composition. Punctuation, &c, 
&c, containing examples of 1.000 mistakes of daily occurrence in speaking, 
writing and pronunciation. Cloth. Ib'mo, 216 pages 75 Ct3. 

The Art of Dressing Well. By Miss S. A. Frost. This book is 

designed for ladies and gentbmen who desire to make a favorable impres- 
sion upon society. Paper covers ?0 CtS. 

Bound in boards, cloth back 50 CtS. 

Thimm's French Self-Taught. A new system, on the most 

simple principles, for Universal Self- Tuition, with English pronunciation of 
every word. By this system the acquirement of the French Langunge is 
rendered less laborious and more thorough than by any of the old methods. 
By Pranz Thimm £5 cts. 

Thimm's German Seif-Tausrht. Uniform with "French Self- 

Taught," and arranged in accordance with the same principles of thorough- 
ness and simplicity. By Pranz Thimm 25 cts. 

Thimm's Spanish Self-Taught. A book of self-instruction in 

the Spanish Language, arranged according to the same method as the 
11 French " and '* German," by the same author, and uniform with them iu 
size. By Franz Thimm 25 cts. 

Thimm's Italian Self-Taught. Uniform in style and size with 
the three foregoing books. By Pranz Thimm .25 CtS. 



Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annesed, 

CARD AND OTHER GAMES. 

"Tramp's" American Koyle; or, Gentleman's Hand-Book 

of Games. This work contains an exhaustive treatise on Whist, by William 
Pole, F.P.S., and the rules for playing- that game as laid down l>y the Hon. 
James Clay. It also contains clear descriptions of all the games played 
in the United States, with the American rules for playing them ; including 
Euchre. Bezique, Cribbage, All Fours, Loo, Poker, 'Brag, Piquet, Pedro 
Sancho, Penuchle, Railroad Euchre, Jack Pots, Ecarte, Boston, Cassino, 
Chess, Checkers, f>ackg-ammon, Billiards, Dominoes, and a hundred other 
games. This work is designed as an American authority in all games of 
skill and chance, and will settle any disputed point. It has been prepared 
with great care, and is not a re-hash of English games, but a live American 
book, expressly prepared for American players. The American Hoylk 
contains 525 pages, is printed on line white paper, bound in cloth, with extra 
gilt side and beveled boards, and is profusely illustrated $2.00 

The Modern Pocket Koyle. By " Trumps." Containing all 

the games of skill and chance, as played in this country at the present time, 
being an "authority on ail disputed points." This valuable manual is all orig- 
inal, or thoroughly revised from the best and latest authorities, and includes 
the laws and complete directions for playing one hundred and eleven diii'er- 

erent games. '188 pages, paper covers 50 ets. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back 7 5 cts. 

Bound in cloth, gilt side and back &1 .25 

Koyle's Games. -A. complete Manual of the laws that govern all 
games of skill and chance, including Card Games. Chess, Checkers, Domi- 
noes, Backgammon. Dice. Billiards (as played in this country at the present 
time), and all Field Gaines. Entirely original, or thoroughly revised from 

the latest and best American authorities. Paper covers 50 cts. 

Boards 7 5 /its. 

Cloth, gilt side Ii>i.25 

Walker's Cribbage Made Easy. Being a new and complete 

Treatise on the G-ame in all varieties. By George Walker, Esq. A very 
comprehensive work on this Game. It contains over 5UU examples ot *iow 
to discard for your own and your adversary's crib. 
142 pages, bound in boards ^0 cts. 

100 Tricks With Cards Exposed and Explained. By J. H. 

Green, the Reformed Gambler. 'This book exposes and explains all the 
Mysteries of the Gambling Tables. It is interesting not only to those who 

play, but to those who do not. Paper covers. ^0 Cts. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back - 00 Cts. 

How Gamblers Win; or, The Secrets of Advantage Play- 
ing Exposed. Being a complete and scientific expose of the manner of 
playing all the various advantages in the various Card Games, as practiced 
by professional gamblers. This work is designed as a warning to sell-confi- 
dent card-players. Bound in boards, with cloth back 50 cts. 

DICK & FITZGERALD, Publishers, 

Box 2975. NEW Y-TRK. 



Popular Book3 sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 



Hartuies Sensible Letter- Writer. Being a comprehensive 

and complete Guide and Assistant for those who desire to c.rry 0:1 Episto- 
lary Correspondence ; containing a large collection of model letters 0:1 the 

simplest matters of life, adapted to ail ages and conditions— 



EMBRACING, 



of Courtesy, Friendship and 



Letter.. 

Affection ; 
Letters of Condolence and Sympathy; 

A Choice Collection of Lore-Letters, 
for Every Situation in a Courtship ; 

Notes of Ceremony, Familiar Invita- 
tions, etc., together with Notes of 
Acceptance and Regret. 



Business Letters ; 

Applications for Employment, with 

Letters of Recommendation and 

Answers to Advertisements; 

Letters between Parents and, Children ; 

Letters of Friendly Counsel and Re- 
monstrance ; 

Letters soliciting Advice, Assistance 
and Friendly Favors ; 

The whole containing* 300 Sensible Letters and Xotes. This is an invalua- 
ble book for those persons who haye not had sufficient practice to enable 
them to write letters without great effort. It contains such a "variety of 
letters, that models may be found to suit every subject. 

2j7 pages, bound in boards, cloth back * 50 cts. 

Bound in cloth 75 Cts, 

Marline's Hand-Book of Etiquette and Guide to True 

Politeness. A complete Manual for ail those who desire to understand 
good breeding, the customs of good society, and to avoid incorrect and 
vulgar habits. Containing* clear and comprehensive directions for correct 
manners, conversation, dress, introductions, rides for good behavior at 
Dinner Parties and ike Table, with hints on carving and wine at table; 
together with the Etiquette of the Ball and Assembly Boom, Evening 
Parties, and the usages to be observed when visiting or receiving calls'; 
Deportment in the street and when traveling. To which is added the Eti- 
quette of Courtship, Marriage, Domestic Duties and fifty-six rules to be ob- 
served in general society. By Arthur Martine. Bound' in boards . .50 cts. 
Bound in cloth, gilt sides ■ 75 cts. 

Dick's Quadrille Call-Book and Ball-Boom Prompter. Con- 
taining clear directions how to call out the figures of every dance, with the 
quantity of music necessary for each figure, and simple explanations of all 
the figures which occur in Plain and Fancy Quadrilles. This book gives 
plain and comprehensive instructions how to dance all the new and popular 
dances, fully describing 



The Opening March or Polonaise, 
Various Plain and Fancy Quadrilles, 
Waltz and Glide Quadrilles, 
Plain Lancers and Caledonians, 
Glide Lancers and Caledonians, 
Saratoga Lancers. 
The Parisian Varieties, 
The Prince Imperial Set. 
Social and Basket Quadrilles, 
Nine-Pin and Star Quadrilles, 
Gavotte and Minuet Quadrilles, 



March and Cheat Quadrilles, 
Favorite Jigs and Contra-Dances, 
Polka and Polka Redowa, 
Redowa and Redowa Waltz, 
Polka Mazourka and Old Style Waltz, 
Modern Plain Waltz and Glide, 
Boston Dip and Soj) Waltz, 
Five-Step Waltz and Schottische, 
Varsovienne and Zulma L' Orientale, 
Galop and Deux Temps, 
Esmeralda, Sicilienne, Danish Dance, 



AND OVER ONE HUNDRED FIGUKES FOR THE " GERMAN ;" 

To which is added a Sensible Guide to Etiquette and Proper Deportment in 
the Ball and Assembly Boom, besides seventy pages of dance music for the 
piano. 

Paper covers 50 cts. 

Bound in boards 75 cts. 



Popular Books sent Free of Postage at the Prices annexed. 
Lola Montez' Arts of Beauty; or, Secrets of a Lady's 

Toilet. With hints to Gentlemen on the Art of Fascinating. Lola Monica 
here explains all the Arts employed by the celebrated beauties and fashion- 
able ladies in Paris and other cities of Europe, for the purpose of preserving 
their beauty and improving and developing- their charms. The recipes are 
oil clearly given, so that any person can understand them, and the "work em- 
braces the following subjects : 



How to obtain such desirable and in- 
dispensable attractions as A Hand- 
some Form ; 

A Bright and Smooth Skin ; 

A Beautiful Complexion ; 

Attractive Eyes, Mouth and Lips ; 

A Beautiful Hand, Foot and Ankle ; 

A Well-trained Voice; 
Illuminated paper cover 25 Cts. 

HiUgrove's Ball -Boom Guide and Complete Dancing- 

Ma"tsr. Containing a plain treatise on Etiquette and Deportment at Balls 
and Parties, with valuable hints on Dress and the Toilet, together with 



A Soft and Abundant Head of Hair; 

Also, Hoto to Remedy Gray Hair; 

And harmless but effectual methods of 
removing Superfluous Hair and 
other blemishes, with interesting in- 
formation on these and kindred 
matters. 



Full Explanations of the Rudiments, 
Terms, Figures arid Steps used in 
Dancing; 

Including Clear and Precise Instruc- 
tions how to dunce all kinds of Quad- 
rilles, Waltzes, Folkas, Redoivas, 



Reels, Roimd, Plain and Fancy 
Dances, so that any person may 
learn them without the aid of a 
Teacher; 
To ivhich is added easy directions how 
to call out the Figures 



of every dance, and the amount of music required for each. Illustrated 
with 17*5 descriptive engravings. By T. Hillgrove, Professor of Dancing. 

Bound in cloth, with gilt side and back $1.00 

Bound in boards, with cloth back 75 cts. 

The Banjo, and Hc\V to Flay it. Containing, in addition to 
the elementary studies, a choice collection of Polkas. Waltzes, Solos, Schot- 
tisches. Songs, Hornpipes, Ji--s, Reels, etc., with full explanations of both 
the "Banjo'" and "Guitar" stylos of execution, and designed to import a 
complete knowledge of the art of playing the Banjo practically, without the 
aid of a teacher. This work is arranged on the progressive system, show- 
ing the learner how to play the first few notes of a tune, then tlie 
next notes, and soon, a smail portion at a time, until ho has mastered the 
entire piece, every detail being as clearly and thoroughly explained as if he 
had a teacher at his elbow all the time. By Frank B. Converse, author of 
the "Banjo without a Master." 16mo, bound in boards, cloth back. .50 Cts. 

Row's National Wa^es Tables. Showing at a glance the 
amount of wages from half an hour to sixty hours, at from Si to $37 per 
week. Also from one-quarter of a day to four weeks, at $ 1 to $37 per week. 
By kelson Row. Bv this book, which is particularly useful when part of a 
week, day or hour is lost, a large pay-roll can be made out in a few minutes, 
thus saving more time in making out one pay-roll thnn the cost of the book. 
Everv employer hiring help by the hour, day or week, and every employee, 
should obtain one, as it will enable him to know exactly the amount of 
money he is entitled to on pay-day. Half bound 50 cts. 

Bow's Complete Fractional Ready-Eeckoner. For buying 

and selling any kind of merchandise, giving the fractional parts of a pound, 
yard etc., from one-quarter to one thousand, at any price from one-quarter 
of a cent to five dollars. By Nelson Row. 3(5mo, 23J pages, boards . . 50 cts. 

Blunders in Behavior Corrected. A book of Deportment for 

both Ladies aud Gentlemen. Bv means of this book you can learn the most 
difficult phases iu Etiquette, or behavior in good cociety , . .12 cts. 



Popular Book3 sent Free of Postage at th9 Price3 annexed. 

Delisser's Horseman's Guide. Comprising the Laws on War- 
ranty, and the Rules in purchasing' and selling horses, with the decisions 
and reports of various courts iu Europe and the United States ; to which is 
added a detailed account of what constitutes soundness and unsoundness, 
and a precise method, simply laid down, for the examination of horses, 
showing their age to thirty years old ; together with an exposure of the 
various tricks and impositions practiced by low horse-dealers (jockeys) on 
inexperienced persons ; also, a valuable Table of each and every bone in the 
structure of the Horse. By George P. Delisser, Veterinary Surgeon. 

Bound iu boards, cloth back 75 Cts. 

Bound in cloth §1,0 

Brisbane's Golden Ready-Reckoner. Calculated in Dollars 

and Cents. Showing at once the amount or value of any number of articles 
or quantity of goods, or any merchandise, either by the gallon, quart, pint, 
ounce, pound, quarter, hundred, yard, foot, inch, bushel, etc.. in an easy and 
plain manner. To which are added Interest Tables, calculated in dollars 
and cents, for days and for months, at six per cent, and at seven per cent. 
per annum, alternately ; and a great number of other Tables and Itules for 
calculation never before in print. Bound in boards 35 ct3, 

How to Cook Potatoes, Apples, Eggs and Fish, Four 

Hundred Different Way?. Our lady friends will be surprised when they 
examine this book, and hhd the great variety of ways that the same article 
may be prepared and cooked. The work especially recommends itself to 
those who are often embarrassed for want of variety in dishes suitable for 
the breakfast-table, or on occasions where the necessity arises for preparing 

a meal at short notice. Paper covers .* 80 cts. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back 50 ct3» 

The American Housewife and Kitchen Directory. This val- 
uable book embraces three hundred and seventy-eight reeipesVor cookimr all 
sorts of American dishes in the most economical manner: it also contains a 
variety of important secrets for washing, cleaning, scouring and extracting 
grease, paint, stains and iron-mould from cloth, muslin and linen. Bound in 

ornamental pa per covers 30 ct 3. 

Bound iu boards, with cloth back 50 Cts. 

How to Cook and How to Carve. Giving plain and easily 

understood directions for preparing and cooking, with the greatest economy, 
every kind of dish, with complete instructions for serving the same. This 
book is just the thing for a young Housekeeper. It is worth a dozen of ex- 
pensive French books. Paper covers 30 Ct3. 

Bound in boards, with cloth back 50 Ct3, 

The American Home Cook Book. Containing several hun- 
dred excellent recipes. The whole based on many years' experience of an 
American Housewife. Illustrate! with engravings. All the Hecipes in 

this book are written from actual experience" in Cooking. Paper 30 Cts. 

Bound in boards, cloth back 50 cts. 

The Yankee Cook Book. A new system of Cookery. Con- 
taining hundreds of excellent recipes from actual experience in Cooking; 
also, full explanations in the art of Carving. 126 pages, paper covers. 30 cts. 
Bound in boards, with cloth back 50 Cts. 

How to Mix all Kinds of Fancy Drinks. Containing clear and 

reliable directions for mixing all the "beverages used in the United States. 
Embracing Punches. Juleps, Cobblers, Cocktails, etc., etc., in endless variety. 

By Jerry Thomas. Illuminated paper covers 50 cts. 

Bound in full cloth , , 75 cts. 



Popular Books sent Free of Postage at tlie Prices annexed. 
What Shall We Do To-Night? or, Social Amusements for 

Evening? Parties. This elegant book affords an almost inexhaustible fund of 
amusement for evening parties, social gatherings and all festive occasions, 
ingeniously grouped together so as to furnish complete and ever-varying 
entertainment for Twenty-six evenings. Its repertoire embraces all the'best 
round and forfeit games, clearly described and rendered perfectly plain by 
original and amusing examples, interspersed with a great variety of ingenious 
puzzles, entertaining tricks and innocent sells ; new and original Musical 
and Poetical pastimes, startling illusions and mirth-provoking exhibi- 
tions; including complete directions and text for performing Charades, 
Tableaux, Parlor Pantomimes, the world-renowned Punch and Judy. Gal- 
lanty Shows and original Shadow-pantomimes; also, full in formation for the 
successful performance of Dramatic Dialogues and Parlor Theatricals, with 
a selection of Original Plays, etc., written expressly for this work. It is em- 
bellished with over one hundred descriptive and' explanatory engravings, 
and contains 366 pages, printed on fine toned paper. Extra cloth. . .$2.00 

The Secret Out; or, 1,000 Tricks with Cards, and Other 

Recreations. Illustrated with over 300 engravings. A book which ex- 
plains all the Tricks and Deceptions with Playing Cards ever known, and 
gives, besides, a great many new ones. The whole being described so care- 
fully, with engravings to illustrate them, that anybody can easily learn how 
to perform them. This work also contains 240 of the best Tricks of Legerde- 
main, in addition to the Card Tricks. Such is the unerring process of in- 
struction adopted in this volume, that no reader can fail to succeed in ex- 
ecuting every Trick, Experiment, Game, etc., set down, if he will at all de- 
vote his attention, in his leisure hours, to the subject ; and, as almost every 
. trick with cards known will be found in this collection, it may be considered 
the only complete work on the subject ever published. 
12mo, 400 pages, t>ound in cloth, gilt side and back $1,50 

The Magician's Own Book; or, The Whole Art of Con- 
juring. A complete hand-book of Parlor Magic, containing over a thou- 
sand Optical, Chemical, Mechanical, Magnetic and Magical Experiments, 
Amusing Transmutations, Astonishing Sleights and Subtleties, Celebrated 
Card Deceptions, Ingenious Tricks with Numbers, curious and entertaining 
Puzzles, the Art of Secret Writing, together with all the most noted tricks 
of modern performers. Illustrated with over 500 wood-cuts, the whole 
forming a comprehensive guide for amateurs. 12mo, cloth, gilt $1,50 

The Sociable ; or, One Thousand and Cue Home Amuse- 
ment?. Containing Acting Proverbs, Dramatic, Charades, Acting Cha- 
rades or Drawing-room Pantomimes, Musical Burlesques, Tableaux Vivants, 
Parlor Games, Games of Action, Forfeits. Science in Sport and Parlor 
Magic, and a choice collection of curious Mental and Mechanical Puzzles, 
etc. Illustrated with numerous engravings and diagrams. The whole be- 
ing a fund of never-ending entertainment. 370 pages,cloth, gilt $1.50 

Athletic Sports for Boys. A Repository of Graceful Recrea- 
tions for Youth, containing clear and complete instructions in Gymnastics, 
Limb Exercises, Jumping, Pole-Leaping, Dumb P>elis, Indian Clubs. Paral- 
lel Pars, the Horizontal 'Par, the Trapeze, the Suspended Popes, and the 
manly accomplishments of Skating, Swimming, Powing, Sailing, Horse- 
manship, Riding, Driving, Angling,'Fencing audi Broadsword. Illustrated 
with 194 wood-cuts. Bound in boards 75 cts. 

The Younsf Reporter; or, How to Write Short-Hand. A 

Complete Phonographic Teacher, intended as a School-book, to afford thor- 
ough instructions to those who have not the assistance of an Oral Teacher. 
By the aid of this work, any person of the most ordinary intelligence may 
learn to write Short-Hand, and report Speeches and Sermons in a short time. 
Bound in boards, with cloth back .. ..50 Cts. 



Sent Free of Postage on Receipt of Price, 

What Shall We Do To-Night? or, Social 

Amusements for Evening Parties. This elegant book af- 
fords an almost inexhaustible fund of amusement for Evening 
Parties, Social Gatherings and all Festive Oc* ^sions, ingeniously 
grouped together so as to furnish complete a»d ever-varying 
entertainment for Twenty-six evenings. Its repertoire embraces 
all the 



Best Bound and Forfeit Games, clf'rly 
described and rendered perfe.^y 
plain by original and amusin<, tr- 
amples, interspersed with a great 
variety of Ingenious Puzzles, Enter- 
taining T ' and Innocent Sells; 
neiv and &r inal Musical and Poet- 
ical pastir, ,es, Stai'tling Illusions 
and Mirth-provoking Exhibitions; 
including complete direct^ ms %nd 



i ',r performing Charades, Tab- 
ieau$, Parlor Pantomimes, the 
world renowned Punch and Judy, 
Galkudy Shows and original 
Shadow-pantomimes ; also, full in- 
formation for the successful per- 
formance of Dramatic Dialogues 
and Parlor Theatricals, with a 
selection of Original Plays, etc.. 




written expressly for this work. It is embellished with over 

ONE HUNDRED DESCRIPTIVE AND EXPLANATORY ENGRAVINGS, 

and contains 366 pages, printed on fine toned paper. 

12mo, bound in* extra doth; beveled $2.00 



Sent Free of Postage on Receipt of Price. 

The Art and Etiquette of Making Love. A 

Manual of Love, Courtship and Matrimony. It tells 

How to Cure Bashfulness,- 

How to Commence a Courtship; 

Hoio to Please a Sweetheart or Lover,- 

How to Write a Love-Letter,- 

LToiv to "Pop the Question"; 

Hoiv to Act Before and After a Pro- 
posal; 

Blow to Accept or Reject a Proposal; 

How to Break off an Engagement; 

Blow to Act After an Engagement; 

Koto to Act as Bridesmaid or Grooms- 
man; 

Hoiv the Etiquette of a Wedding and the 
After-Reception Should be Observed; 

And, in fact, how to fulfill every duty and meet every contin- 
gency connected with courtship and matrimony. It includes 
also a choice collection of sensible Letters suitable for all the 
contingencies of Love and Courtship. 

176 pages, paper cover- 30 cts. 

Bound in boards, clot-1 back 50 cts. 




Dick's Quadrille Call-Book and Ball-Room 

Prompter. Containing clear directions how to call out the 
figures of every dance, with the quantity of music necessary for 
each figure, and simple explanations of all the figures and steps 
which occur in Plain and Fancy Quadrilles. Also, a plain analy- 
sis and description of all the steps employed in the favorite 
round dances, fully describing : 



The Opening March or Polonaise, 
Various Plain and Fancy Quadrilles, 
Waltz and Glide Quadrilles, 
Plain Lancers and Caledonians, 
Glide Lancers and Caledonians, 
Saratoga Lancers, 
Tlie Parisian Varieties, 
The Prince Imperial Set 
Social and Basket Quadrilles, 
Nine-Pin and Star Quadrilles, 
Gavotte and Minuet Quadrilles, 



March and Cheat Quadrilles, 

Favorite Jigs and Contra-Dances-, 

Polka and Polka Redowa, 

Redowa and Redowa Waltz, 

Polka Mazourka and Old Style Waltz, 

Modern Plain Waltz and Glide, 

Boston Dip and Hop Waltz, 

Five-Step Waltz and Schottische, 

Varsoviemve, and Zulma E Orientate, 

Galop and Deux Temps, 

Esmeralda, Sicilienne, Danish Dance, 



AND OVER ONE HUNDRED FIGURES FOR THE "GERMAN j" 

To which is added a Sensible Guide to Etiquette and Proper De- 
portment in the Ball and Assembly Room, besides seventy pages 
of dance music for the piano. 

Paper covers 50 cts. 

Bound in boards 75 cts. 



Sent Free ©f Postage on Receipt of Price. 

Uncle Josh's Trunkful of Pun. A portfolio of 

first-class Wit and Humor, arid never-ending source of Jollity. 

CONTAINING A RICH COLLECTION OF 

Comical Stories, Cruel Sells, New Conundrums, 

Side- Splitting Jokes, Mirth- Provoking Speeches, 

Humorous Poetry, Curious Puzzles, 

Quaint Parodies, Amusing Card Tricks, and 

Burlesque Sermons, Astonishing Feats of Parlor-Magic. 




This book is illustrated with nearly 200 Funny Engravings, anfl 
contains 64 large octavo double- column pages 15 cts. 

Barber's American Book of Ready-Made 

Speeches. Containing 159 original examples of Humorous and 
Serious Speeches, suitable for every possible occasion where a 
speech may be called for, with appropriate replies to each. 

INCLUDING- 

Presentation Speeches. 
Convivial Speeches. 
Festival Speeches. 
Addresses of Congratulation. 
Addresses of Welcome. 
Addresses of Compliment. 
Political Speeches. 

Dinner and Supper Speeches for 
Clubs, etc. 

With this book any person may prepare himself to make a neat 
little speech, or reply to one when called upon to do so. They 
are all short, appropriate and witty, and even ready speakers 

may profit by them. Paper - 50 cts. 

Bound in boards, cloth back ..,..*♦.» 75 cts. 



Off-Rand Speeches on a Variety of 
Subjects. 

MiscelloMeous Speeches. 

Toasts and Sentiments for Public and 
Private Entertainments. 

Preambles and Resolutions of Con- 
gratidation, Compliment and Con- 
dolence. 



Sent Free &f Postage on Receipt of Price. 

The Amateur Trapper and Trap-Maker's 

Guide. A complete and carefully prepared treatise on the art 
of Trapping, Snaring and Netting ; containing plain directions 
for constructing the most approved Traps, Snares, Nets and 
Dead-Falls ; the best methods of applying them to their various 
purposes ; and the most successful Baits for attracting all kinds 
of Animals, Birds, etc., with their special uses in each case ; in- 
troducing receipts for preparing Skins and Furs for Market. 




The entire work is based on the experience of the most successful 
Trappers, and on information derived from other authentic pro- 
fessional sources. By Stanley Harding. This comprehensive 
work is embellished with fifty well drawn and engraved illustra- 
tions ; and these, together with the clear explanations which ac- 
company them, will enable anybody of moderate comprehension 
to make and set any of the traps described. IT TELLS 



Mow to make all kinds of Traps; 
JIow to make all kinds of Snares; 
Mow to Set and Secure Traps; 
Mow to Attract Animals from a Dis- 
tance; 
How to Prepare Baits; 
JIow to Bait a Trap; 



Sow to Trap or Snare all kinds of 

Animals; 
How to Trap or Snare Birds of every 

description; 
Mow to Cure and Tan Skins; 
Moiv to Skin and Stuff Birds or 

Animals. 



It also gives the baits usually employed by the most successful 
Hunters and Trappers, and exposes their secret methods of at- 
tracting and catching Animals, Birds, etc., with scarcely a pos- 
sibility of failure. Large 16mo, paper covers 50 cts. 

Bound in boards, cloth back 75 cts. 



How to Write a Composition. This original 

work will be found a valuable aid in writing a composition on 
any topic. It lays down plain directions for the division of a 
subject into its appropriate heads, and for arranging them in their 
natural order, commencing with the simplest theme, and advanc- 
ing progressively to more complicated subjects. Paper. .30 cts. 
Bound in boards, cloth back 50 cts. 



Sent Free of JPostage on Receipt of JPrice. 

The Magician's Own Book. One of the most ex- 
traordinary and interesting volumes ever printed — containing 
the "Whole Art of Conjuring, and all the Discoveries in Magic ever 
made, either by ancient or modern philosophers. IT EXPLAINS 



All Sleight of Hand Tricks; 
Tricks and Deceptions with Cards; 
The Magic of Chemistry; 
Mysterious Experiments in Electricity 

and Galvanism; 
The Magic of Pneumatics, Aerostatics, 

Optics, etc.; 
The Magic of Numbers; 



Curious Tricks in Geometry; 

Mysterious and Amusing Puzzles, and 
answers thereto,- 

The Magic of Art; 

Miscellaneous Tricks and Experi- 
ments; 

Curious Fancies, etc., etc. 





The tricks are all illustrated by Engravings and Tables, so as to 
make them easily understood and practiced. As a volume 
for the amusement of an evening party, this book cannot be sur- 
passed. Gilt binding, 362 pages $1.50 

East Lynne ; or, The Earl's Daughter. Li- 
brary edition, complete and unabridged. This novel is Mrs. 
Henry Wood's masterpiece, and stands in the very front ank of 
all the works of fiction ever written ; it has scarcely a riv s as a 
brilliant creation of literary genius, and is prominent among the 
very few works of its class that have stood the test of time, and 
achieved a lasting reputation. In originality of design, and 
masterly and dramatic development of the subject, East Lynne 
stands unrivaled ; it will be read and re-read long after the ma- 
jority of the ephemeral romances of to-day have passed out of 
existence and been forgotten. A handsome 12mo volume of 
598 pages, from new electrotype plates, printed on fine toned 
paper, and elegantly bound in cloth, in black and gold. . .$1.50 



Why i6 thi vook oj th Jrropheeies o; 
Isaiah a strong proof of the authen- 
ticity of the whole Bible ? 

Why did our Saviour receive the name 
of Jesus 't 

Why did John the Baptist neeitate to 
administer the rite of Baptism to 
Jesus ? 



Sent Free of Postage on Receipt of Price. 

The Biblical Eeason Why. A Hand-Book for 

Biblical Students, and a guide to family Scripture reading. This 
work gives reasons founded upon the Bible, and assigned by 
the most eminent Divines and Christian Philosophers, for the 
great and alLabsoibing events recorded in the History of the 
Bible, the Life of our Saviour and the Acts of His Apostles. 

EXAMPLE. 

Why did the first patriarchs attain 
such extreme longevity . 

Why ivas the term of life afterwards 
shortened? 

Why are there several manifest varia- 
tions in names. Jacts and dates, be- 
tween the books of Kings and Chron- 
icles ? 

This volume answers 1,493 simhai qaestions. Beautifully illus- 
trated. Large 12mo, cloth, gilt side and back $1.50 

The Reason Why: General Science. A care- 
ful collection of reasons for some thousands of things which, 
though generally known, are imperfectly understood. A book 
for the million. This work assigns reasons for the thousands or 
things that daily fall under the eye of the intelligent observer, 
and of which he seeks a simple and clear explanation. 

EXAMPLE. 

Why does silver tarnish when exposed WJiat develops electricity in the 

to light ? clouds ? 

Why do some colors fade, and others Why does dew form round drops upon 

darken, when exposed to the eun ? the leaves of plants ? 
Why is the sky blue ? 

This volume answers 1,325 similar questions. 356 pages, bound 
in cloth, gilt, and embellished with a large number of wood- 
cuts, illustrating the various subjects treated of , .$1.50 

The Eeason Why: Natural History. Giving 

reasons for hundreds of interesting facts in connection with 
Zoology, and throwing a light upon the peculiar habits and in- 
stincts of the various orders of the Animal Kingdom. 
EXAMPLE. 



Why has the lion such a large mane? 
Why does the otter, when hunting for 

fish, swim against the stream ? 
Why do dogs turn around two or three 

times before they lie down ? 
Why have flat fishes their upper sides 

dark, and their under sides white? 



Why do sporting dogs make what is 
termed " a point"? 

Why do birds often roost upon one leg ? 

Why do frogs keep their mouths closed 
while breathing ? 

Why does the wren build several nests, 
but occupy only one ? 

This volume answers about 1,500 similar questions. 
Illustrated, cloth, gilt side and back $1.50 



Seifit Free of Postage on Receipt of Price. 



The American Boy's Book of Sports and 

Games. A Kepository of In and Out-door Amusements for 
Boys and Youths. Containing 600 large 12mo pages. Illus- 
trated with nearly 700 engravings, designed by White, Herrick, 
Weir and Harvey, and engraved by N. Orr. This is unquestion- 
ably the most attractive and valuable book of its kind over- 
issued in this or any other country. It was three years in pre- 
paration, and embraces all the sports and games that tend to de- 
velop the physical constitution, improve the mind and heart, anc3 
relieve the tedium of leisure hours, both in the parlor and the 
field. 




The engravings are in the first style of the art, and embrace 
eight full-page ornamental titles, and two large colored chromos, 
illustrating the several departments of the work, beautifully 
printed on tinted paper. The book is issued in the best style, 
being printed on fine sized paper, and handsomely bound. Extra 
cloth, gilt side and back, extra gold, beveled boards $2.00 

Jack Johnson's Jokes for the Jolly. A col- 
lection of Funny Stories, illustrating the Drolleries of Border 
Life in the West, Yankee Peculiarities, Dutch Blunders, French 
Sarcasms, Irish Wit and Humor, etc. 
Illustrated paper covers 25 cts. 



Sent Free of Postage on Receipt of Price. 



"Trump's" American Koyle ; or, Gentleman's 

Hand-Book of Games. This work contains an exhaustive 

treatise on "Whist, by "William Pole, F.R.S., and the rules for 
playing that game as laid down by the Hon. James Clay. It also 
contains clear descriptions of aii the games played in the United 
States, with the American rules for playing them ; including 



JSuchre, Bezique, Cribbage, Baccara, 
All Fours, Loo, Poker, Brag, Piquet, 
Pedro Sancho, Penuchle, Railroad 
Euchre, Jack Pots, Ecarte, Boston, 



California Jack, Gassino, Chess, 

Checkers, Backgammon , Billiards, 
Dominoes, and a hundred other 
games. 



4. 4. 


♦ 


*** 

t * * 



This work is designed as an American authority in all ^ames of 
skill and chance, and will settle any disputed point. It has 
been prepared with great care, and is not a re-hash of English 
games, but a live American book, expressly prepared for Amer- 
ican players. The American Hoyle contains 525 pages, is 
printed on fine white paper, bound in cloth, with extra -gilt side 
and beveled boards, and is profusely illustrated $2.00 

Spayth's American Draught Player ; or, The 

Theory and Practice of .the Scientific Game of Checkers. 

Simplified and Illustrated with Practical Diagrams. Containing 
upwards of 1,700 Games and Positions. By Henry Spayth. 
Fifth edition, with over two hundred Corrections and Im- 




provements. Containing : The Standard Laws of the Game— 
Full Instructions— Draught Board Numbered— Sanies of the 
Games, and how formed — The " Theory of the Move and its 
Changes" practically explained and illustrated with Diagrams — 
Playing Tables for Draught Clubs— Xew Systems of Numbering 
the Board— Prefixing Signs to the "Variations— list of Draught 
Treatises and Publications chronologically arranged. 
Bound in cloth, gilt side and back $3.00 



Sent Free of Postage on Receipt of Price. 

Sut LovingOOd. Yarns spun by "ANat'ral Born 

Dum'd Pool." Warped and Wove for Public Wear by George 

, W. Harris. Illustrated with eight fine full page engravings 




from designs by Howard. It would be difficult, we think, to 
cram a larger amount of pungent humor into 300 pages than will 
be found in this really funny book. The Preface and Dedication 
are models of sly simplicity, and the 24 Sketches which follow 
are among the best specimens of broad burlesque to which the 
genius of the ludicrous, for which the Southwest is so distin- 
guished, has yet given birth. Cloth, gilt edges $1.50 

How to Conduct a Debate. A Series of 

Complete Debates, 

Outlines of Delates, and 

Questions for Discussion. 
In the complete debates, the questions for discussion are denned, 
the debate formally opened, an array of brilliant arguments 
adduced on either side, and the debate closed according to par- 
liamentary usages. The second part consists of questions for 
debate, with heads of arguments, for and against, given in a 
condensed form for the speakers to enlarge upon to suit their 
own fancy. In addition to these are 

A Large Collection of Debatable Questions. 
The authorities to be referred to for information are given at the 
close of every debate. By Prederic Kowton. 

232 pages, paper 50 cts. 

Bound in boards, cloth back 75 cts. 



Sent Free of Postage on Receipt of Price. 

The Secret Out; or, 1,000 Tricks with Cards, 

and Other Recreations. Illustrated with over 300 engravings. 
A book which explains all the Tricks and Deceptions with Play- 
ing Cards ever known, and gives, besides, a great many new 
ones. The whole being described so carefully, with engravings 
to illustrate them, that anybody can easily learn how to perform 
them. This work also contains 240 of the best Tricks of Leger- 
demain, in addition to the Card Tricks. 




SYNOPSIS OF CONTEXTS. 



Part I. — Tricks with Cards performed 
by skillful Manipulation and Sleight 
of Hand. 

Part II. — Tricks performed by the aid 
of Memory, Mental Calculation and 
the Peculiar Arrangement of the 
Cards. 

Part HI. — Tricks with Cards per- 
formed by the aid of Confederacy 
and sheer Audacity. 

Part IV. — Tricks performed by the 
aid of Ingenious Apparatus and 
Prepared Cards. 

Part V. — Tricks of Legerdemain, Con- 
juring, Sleight of Rand and other 
Fancies, commonly called White 
Magic. 



Part VI.— Tricks in White Magie, 
performed by the aid of Ingenious 
Contrivance and Simple Apparatus. 

Part VII. — Xatural Magic, or Recre- 
ations in Science, embracing Curious 
Amusements in Magnetism, Mechan- 
ics, Acoustics, Chemistry, Hydrau- 
lics and Optics. 

Part VI1X— A Curious Collection of 
Entertaining Experiments, Amus- 
ing Puzzles. Queer Sleights, Includ- 
ing the Celebrated Science of Second 
Sight. Recreations in Arithmetic, 
and Fireside Gaines for Family Pas- 
time, and other Astonishing Scien- 
tific Paradoxes and Attractive 
Amusements. 



The Secret Out is, by all odds, the most curious book that has 
been published in many years, and lays bare the wholemachinery 
of magic, and with a simplicity so perfect that nobody can fail 
to become a domestic magician in a week, with very little study 
and practice. Such is the unerring process of instruction adopted 
in this volume, that no reader can fail to succeed in executing 
every Trick, Experiment, Came, etc., set down, if he will at all 
devote his attention, in his leisure hours, to the subject; and-, 
as every trick with cards known will be found in this collection, 
it may be considered the only complete work on the subject ever 
published. 400 pages, bound in cloth, gilt $1.50 




DICK & FITZGERALD — PUBLISHERS. 



Good Books 

Sent JtfVee of Postage at tlie IPrioes MA^jced. 

GTS, 

Frost's Original Letter- Writer. 300 Notes and Letters, 50 

Frost's Dialogues for Young Folks, 50 

Spencer's Book of Comic Speeches & Humorous Recitations, 50 

North's Book of Love Letters, with Advice on Courtship, 50 

Price's Science of Self-D efense, ? 1 25 

Brisbane's Golden Ready-Reckoner...... 35 

Le Marchand's Fortune Teller and Dream Book, 40 

The American Home Cook Book, 50 

Rarey & Knowlson's Horse Tamer and Farrier, 50 

Richardson's Monitor of Freemasonry, 1 25 

Duncan's Ritual of Freemasonry,.. 2 50 

100 Gamblers' Tricks with Cards Exposed, 30 

Live and Learn $ or 1, 000 Mistakes Corrected, 5. ,. 75 

Athletic Sports for Boys. 194 Fine Engravings, 75 

The Play-Room; or In-Door Games for Boys and Girls. 197 Illnst. , 50 

The Play-Ground; or Out-Door Games for Boys. 124 Illustrations, 50 

Book of Household Pets 5 or How to Tamo and Manage Thorn, 50 

3ook of 500 Curious Puzzles. 180 Illustrations, , 50 

Book of Fireside Games and Home Recreations, 50 

Book of Riddles and 500 Amusements, . . 50 

Parlor Tricks with Cards. 70 Engravings, ........ 50 

The Parlor Magician. Fun of Tricks. 121 Engravings, 50 

Parlor Theatricals. A Collection of Drawing-Room Plays, 5P 

Maitine's Sensible Letter-Writer. 300 Notes and Letters, 50 

Martine's Hand-Book of Etiquette. A Good Book, 50 

Day's American Ready-Reckoner and People's Calculator, 50 

H/'igrove's Bail-Room Guide. Full of Explanatory illustrations, 75 

liie Young Reporter ; or How to Write Short-Hand, 50 

Spayth's Draughts or Checkers for Beginners,... 75 

Marache's Manual of the Game of Chess, 50 

The American Card Player. 50 

The Perfect Gentleman. An American Book of Etiquette, .1 50 

The Poet's Companion. " A Dictionary of Rhymes, 25 

Chesterfield's Etiquette and; Letter- Writer ^0 

Fontaine's Golden Wheel <Pream Book and Fortune-Teller, 40 

Courtship Made Easy 5 or The Art of faking Love fuHy Explained, 13 

^he Arts of . Beauty. By Lola Monttz, « 75 

and omfo Qsiiw to DICE * FITZGERALD* New York, 



mm 






'ftA&AA-Af)*i 






Wf0P0&^^^^^M 



aMSAa^/ 



rem 









ftfiM 



■ A A^ A AA2 A ^ ^aa^ AaaM A,«/ w 



a.A*.a/ 



Wr'B^t^^Mi 









SfifiSK- i£ * a *-* •' flWnP 



*/5i^a i ,- ."■ - 



fm»^mh^^^M 



m^^mm. 



'mtmmtm!$<, 



fill .Ft 



MMAftyw\flftMfe 



Deacidified using the Bookkeeper procesJ 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: Nov. 2007 

PreservationTechnologiesI 

A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION; 

111 Thomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Township, PA 1 6066 
(724)779-2111 



iLw^E7_ 



rs a rsf\ . 






LfiV 









5555^ 



LJ/SvWa'iAi 






iMi&ii 









Library of congress! 

021 158 190 6 



